Dragon's Ruin
by YourCompleteDemise
Summary: He's a petty thief and she's a cold-blooded killer. They are an unlikely duo, but they'll find themselves working together after an unexpected invitation to the outside world. With nothing left to lose, he journeys forth on a quest out of pure greed, unbeknownst to just how long and perilous his trek really ends up being... [DISCONTINUED, but there's a rewrite in the works]
1. A Thief's Beginning

A Thief's Beginning

 _Go forth, dragon, for you_ _must strike._

 _Or be bathed in the flames of fire's_ _light._ _.._

* * *

In the black of night under the cover of shadows sat a winged quadruped, awaiting the one he'd taken to calling prey. Shielded by the darkness of tall buildings, he made his move towards the target, a dragoness who just so happened to be wandering around the dimly lit city. Choosing the perfect moment, the quadruped scampered behind a stall she was pacing by.

Grinning, he saw the item he was waiting to collect; a bleak purse made of the finest of leathers strapped to the target's neck. It made a soft jingling sound, the one item everyone wanted and needed, him especially, contained within its soft walls. Taking a single, sluggish step back, he leapt out of his cover and in one fell swoop, swiped the wallet off their scaly neck. The dragoness paused wide-eyed as she started to realise what had happened in mere seconds.

"Stop! _Thief_!" she yelled as she tried to sprint after him. It was of no use, however, for he was long gone into the night.

The quadruped checked his prize, unzipping the contents of the leathery wallet in an alleyway. Gems of all different colours were splayed across the stone path. Smirking deviously at his fortune, he started to make his way back home, a broken sewage pipe located on the outskirts of the city. It hadn't the best of living conditions but he tried his best to make it seem so. After all, it was better than nothing.

He collected the few jewels in the purse and started to walk out onto the streets before he was stopped by a shadow coming into view. The quadruped backed up slowly as held the pouch tightly against his heavily beating chest.

"If it isn't _no-breath_..." a smug voice came forth. The name had grown on him since he was a whelp. He was unsure of any kind of element he might have for it had never came to him. "And look here! He has something for me!"

"Back off, Seth," he named the brown dragon before him. It was hard to make out his features in the dim light, but he easily remembered him being ugly. "I took this one fair and square..."

"Oh, I took this one _fair and square_!" Seth mocked him. "Hand it over, no-breath..."

"Would you stop calling me that?" He glared at him. "Then I might think about it."

"Have it your way!" He took a long, charging leap at him. His bigger size easily would've overpowered the quadruped if not for the dragon's agile feet. A sidestep to the right had Seth crashing into a dumpster. He tossed a single red gem at the feet of the dazed dragon, if only to pity the brown dragon. He wasn't sure if it was really worth the trouble; he left without hearing him so much as groan.

He shot into the sky with a quick beat of his wings, wiping the perspiration slithering through his scales and down his face with a paw. Peering downwards, he looked on at the huge city of Avalar. Buildings of all different shapes littered the streets in organised rows; the power of the electricity dragons ran throughout it's walls, lighting the city dimly. He'd always found the sights whilst flying outstanding; he couldn't even begin to conceive making a city as fantastic as this.

And it was all his to wander around. He enjoyed walking the marketplace. When night fell, however, it was a different situation.

He traded in the marvellous sightseeing for burglary and rabid scavenging. The quadruped hadn't really the best of lives; he couldn't even remember his parents well. But he always tried the best he could to make his years as great as they possibly could be.

Minutes later, he was standing at the circular door to his pipe. It jutted out from the walls as if an ocean was supposed to be there. He didn't mind it's position, only finding it odd to find such a strange occurrence on the outskirts of Avalar. He pushed it open and slowly paced inside.

It was dark except for a candle he'd kept lit with the strike of a match. He wasn't keen to do anything else that night, he'd collected a hefty profit from the unsuspecting dragoness after all. Blowing out the tiny fife, he leapt into his bed, the cold ground, without another word.

He lay on his back, thinking of the truly exciting night he'd just managed. Soon enough, the quadruped fell into a deep slumber.

* * *

It was as dark as the void; a chilly feeling rushed up his spine. He was suspended in mid-air, standing on nothingness, thinking about why he was here. His mind raced as he looked for something that wasn't there: an escape route. Only the colour black swirled in his vision.

"Where am I?" he spoke to himself, feeling utterly insane. A resounding boom filled his mind with dread.

Peering down, he saw the great city of Avalar. What shocked him was the fact that everything, every building and every citizen, had been caught in a blazing inferno. He stared on wide-eyed as he started to realise the events unfolding before him.

He seemingly materialised inside of the burning city. Stood in the town square, he turned back and forth to see stalls burning to cinders and dragons having their own innocent lives taken greedily from them. The encroaching fire suddenly made a path towards him. He jumped back, paws burned by the unforeseen movement.

Blood pumped inside his heart faster and faster, adrenaline filled his mind. He heard someone call out.

"Help! _Please_!" It was feminine, shrieking for needed assistance. He sprinted towards the sound and found a yellowy dragon underneath a huge beam of wood.

He ducked and weaved through the flames until he reached the dragoness in need. Placing his claws on the beam, he pulled as powerfully as his slender frame could muster. It was of no use, however. The thick timber plank just wouldn't budge.

"C'mon!" he yelled out in pure frustration. Putting in his maximum effort, he managed to get the wood to move. Unfortunately, it was to no avail.

"I-I can't..." He stuttered more so to himself than the dragoness. "I... I'm sorry..."

"No, you can't leave me like this!" she screamed, teary eyed.

He backed off as she pleaded him with unmoving eyes. The quadruped was truly sorry but there was nothing he could do for them. Not wanting to see his predictions unfold, he turned around and tried to find a way through the approaching flames as smoke covered his vision. There was a scream.

Turning out of pure curiosity, he found a burning dragoness shaking violently as she tried to stop the fire from burning her. Tears filled the quadruped's vision as he watched on at the horrific sight.

"Help!" she yelled out in agony.

" _Roland_!"

His vision cut to black.

* * *

Awakening in a cold sweat, Roland found himself panting furiously. He realised it was all a nightmare. Making a move to get up, he shivered violently once he was on all fours. The quadruped could only think of the dreadful dream, of the dragoness burning before his eyes. What had it all meant? He'd been told that all dreams had meaning but what of this? Roland had no idea what to think...

Treading heavily towards the disc-like door, he barged it open with his skull, watching as the sun's morning light poured into the metallic pipe. He was blinded by daylight, placing a paw over his exposed eyes to block out any rays. He took a few steps in the other direction and found himself treading into a separate compartment of his pipe.

The sewage lines were home to a complex maze of tunnels, some accessible while others weren't. He'd gotten quite used to the smell inside, his nostrils just wouldn't pick up the stench.

Yesterday he'd forgotten he actually had a bed, there was one sitting right in the corner of the squarish room that he'd stolen previously. How he managed to get a bed back home was beyond him but it was welcome nonetheless.

There was a timber desk, rolled up pieces of parchment and an ink bottle that'd been spilt on one side of the room and a red, velvety wardrobe on the other. A cracked mirror made of silver rested in the corner leftmost of him. He glanced around the space and made a move to rest on the comfortable appearance of his bed.

As he'd thought, soft and comforting. It's sheets were a crimson red in colour and were well-kept unlike most of the objects around the room. If there was one thing Roland valued above all else, it was his slumbering.

He leapt off moments later feeling satisfied. Next, he checked himself in the broken mirror.

Red scales covered him from head to toe, scrawled with the muck of the city. Four golden horns protruded from his head, the two in front were larger and had a slight curl compared to the others which were further back on his skull and closer together, curling in that same motion. Roland held up his wings, a red membrane and a dark grey webbing were shown in the shattered mirror. His dark reddish frills were amuck; he brushed them back with a claw. He turned around to gaze at his tail, barbed with a golden blade that resembled a short scimitar. The one thing he admired most about his own appearance were his eyes; a deep, vibrant gold.

He smirked at himself and played with the thought of taking a bath in a nearby pond. Eventually, he convinced himself to head outside, spreading his wings to increase his momentum. The sun had risen over the cloudy horizon, spreading it's warm light over the fields and into the great city walls. Finding the small stream he'd thought about, he dived in.

It was freezing but refreshing. The dirt found itself in the clean pond, staining it a light brown colour. He was out as soon as he'd leapt in.

Roland made it back to the pipe and paced inside, surprised at his fantastic landing. Almost always he would end up crashing into the floor or a wall. This time he'd stuck it with apparent ease.

Grinning at the sight of the purse recently stolen, he took it in his paws and pulled the strap around his neck. It fit snugly, almost weighing him down with the surprising amount of jewels that'd actually been contained within. He ended up deciding to head into the city to buy things rather than burgle them. Morning robberies never went well; he knew from hard experience.

Careening out of the large pipe, Roland set his destination for the market square. He did a few somersaults in the air before arriving. The landing spot was the top of a small cottage within the residential area. It was as far as he could go whilst flying before being spotted in the air. Despite being dragons, Avalar had made it a crime to fly in the streets. He disliked walking but he didn't want to break any rules where people could see him. Plus, the law stood just in case dragons accidentally crashed into buildings and other citizens... Something he'd managed a lot.

He sprung off the cottage and into the front yard. No one seemed to eye him so he paced forward like nothing had ever happened. The residential areas were bustling with an immense variety of dragons, all their own colour, size and structure. Whelps all the way up to dragon elders treaded heavily. The sound of chatter was dreadfully loud.

Paying it no mind, Roland found himself in a light jog to get to the market square. Paws tapped along the pavement and steady breathing escaped his muzzle. It was obviously inaudible but he felt it rather than hearing it. Soon enough, he reached his location.

The market was teeming with dragons, even more so than the residential area. Stalls and shops were crowded up by lines of reptiles and guards waited patiently for any kind of trouble to occur. Staying wary of their presence, Roland thought of an item he might like to buy. He gazed greedily into the wallet, quickly counting the amount he had to spend.

 _Two hundred and fifty_ , the total came to. It'd be enough to keep him living for a year but he wanted something to treasure. Most of the furniture items he'd bought had been ruined by constant use. The crowd came and went; he was exposed within the mess of dragons. But he didn't mind, it wasn't like anyone knew who he was.

Roland selected a stall with food items on display. He was feeling peckish and wanted a luxurious meal rather than the dull, cheap bread he'd always buy. He lined up, waiting for the reptiles to disperse.

His turn came, a dragoness three times as big as him was slouched over a desk. A wide array of food selections were splayed across the bench and in barrels. What he was interested in was a scrumptious apple pie sat on the far left.

After taking it for only a mere five gems, he continued, chowing down on the pie. It had a delicious centre, perfectly stewed apples, and the crunchy crust tasted slightly of cinnamon. He found himself lining up at another stall, ready to buy something else.

He heard someone yell amongst the crowd. A voice that was directed in his general direction. "Him! He stole my wallet last night!"

Almost gagging, he stared wide-eyed at the earth dragoness gazing at him. Her eyes were wide with vengeance. As soon as the crowd had fallen silent, every single dragon in the square stopped to peer at him.

He ran as fast as he possibly could, almost in flight to get away from the approaching horde of guards coming his way. He turned a quick right, back down the streets of where he'd once come from. The stomping only seemed to get louder.

Crimson inside of him rushed to his heart, beating faster and faster as his breaths became ragged with exhaustion. Perspiration dripped from his scaled brow, stinging his eyes. With one last push, he found himself soaring into the sky as trained instinct set itself in motion.

A green dragon found himself getting close to him, his wing's soft beats were nothing compared to the powerful flight of an adult dragon. Roland cursed under his breath, diving to lose him and gain extra momentum.

He found himself with a sudden idea. Racing towards the ground, he gazed behind him as the dragon tried to take a hold on his barbed tail. Clearly focused on catching his target, Roland simply changed his direction as soon as he was about to hit the ground. There was a loud slamming sound. He grinned to himself.

The dragon had dived muzzle-first into the dirt. Roland found himself pitying his unfortunate fate but he had no time to lose. Whilst the other dragons giving chase tended to the wounds of their comrade, he flew into a small crevice a tree and rock had made far from them.

It had felt like an eternity before the guards left him with unsatisfactory results. Staying inside the small hole was cramped and his heart had been beating in his mind the whole time. He took a peek at the outside world before flying out, a smirk on his face.

Now back at his home, Roland checked himself out. He was covered head to paw in dirt once more and scratches littered his scales but he felt nothing other than exhaustion. Sighing, he went to lay down.

For reasons he was unbeknownst to, he didn't feel weighed down. He checked his neck and was shocked. The pouch had slipped off of his neck in the fray...

Grumbling at his stupidity, he rested his skull on a soft cushion. There was nothing he could do about it now. He was almost about to doze off on the spot but he heard an echo resound within his pipe, the banging of a wooden door. His heart almost stopped. Had the guards followed him back? If so, he was a very dead dragon...

Creeping quietly towards the entrance, Roland looked through a slight crack in the frame. He was relieved to not find a single guard but frustrated to find Seth staring down the door. What could he want?

Hesitantly opening the door, he found the dragon gazing at him. "What?" Roland asked, slightly annoyed to see an unfriendly face.

"Ah, _Roly_!" he yelled out in feigned delight. "How great to see you..."

"Cut to the chase, Seth," he cut him off.

"Fine." He glared at him. "I have a proposition."

This was unexpected coming from the brown dragon. It would always be either an insult or a snarky remark but not today. He wanted help from him...

And Roland wasn't believing it for a second...

"We know that isn't true..."

"I think you'll find that it is." Seth reassured him. He was eager to tell him about something, that was for sure.

Roland let out an inaudible sigh. "Fine. What is it?"

"An artefact. Worth a lot." Seth grinned. This immediately got the attention he was demanding.

"Interesting..." Roland pondered to himself. "What are we looking at?"

"The Orb." Seth almost chuckled.

"What? But that's _impossible_! I can't get into the citadel..."

"You'll find that you can tonight."

Roland was very intrigued with what he was trying to say. "You mean to say you're going to break in?"

"Kind of. You see, someone's doing the work for us... A deal, you see." The brown dragon took a step inside the pipe. Roland had no complaints; he was too keen to figure out what he was offering..

"Who's this somebody?" he asked.

"You don't need to know. All _you_ need to know is the plan."

Glaring suspiciously, Roland huffed. "What's the plan?"

"The walls tonight will shatter, our _associate_ has that covered. You just need to sneak in, grab the Orb and get out."

"And what's in it for me?" he questioned Seth.

"A hefty profit, fifty percent of the shares."

Roland thought about it for a moment. "How about sixty five?"

"Fifty five, no more no less." Seth looked at him, a frown on his face.

"Deal. I'll be there tonight."

"Alright, do you know where the Orb is?"

"I've seen it so many times now..." Roland had in fact seen the Orb before but not once had he been able to take it. This night would make him rich...

"Good dragon." He almost patted him on the head but the red dragon swatted it away. "See you later, no-breath."

Roland groaned before slamming the entrance shut, a loud metallic sound reverberated within the pipe. He cringed mentally at the noise he made. Unsure of what to think, he headed off to his bed.

There was the possibility that this was a trap but this was too great an opportunity to miss. If he could find a fence he'd be so rich he'd be practically swimming in jewels.

The Orb, as the citizens of Avalar had named it, was a priceless artefact that contained knowledge far beyond comprehension. No one had been able to crack it, not even _Volteer_ had mustered the intelligence to wrap his head around it... A puzzle beyond everyone.

If he could get his paws on one of the most powerful objects in the world, he'd become so wealthy!

His greed fuelled him to go; theft was the only thing he'd ever known. He was going to get that artefact even if it was the last thing he would ever do.

* * *

Nightfall came once more after several excruciatingly long hours, cloaking the city under a veil of darkness. Roland found the streets to be very empty much like the previous nights. His target set in stone, he flew towards the centre of Avalar. The citadel was within sight.

It was a huge, chapel-like building carved from stone. Usually locked up, the building went untouched most nights. But tonight, Roland had other plans.

There was a way in - much like Seth had stated - a small hole he was capable of fitting his body through. Tensing up, the quadruped found his way into a huge, religious room. Roland never believed in any religion other than the Ancestors, which basically every dragon believed in. A lot didn't, but he also believed in the legends of old; the stories of heroes like that of Spyro, the purple dragon who had decimated the Dark Master and saved the world from the brink of annihilation. He'd always found him to be an idol of sorts; someone to look up to.

Shaking his mind from his thoughts, he focused on the tedious task ahead, sneaking past rows of seats as quietly as he possibly could. Without any noise, he snuck up a short stairwell and into a stone door behind it. Tables lined the room; a cafeteria of sorts. Making sure to stay hidden, he went by under the closest piece of furniture.

There was a voice, Roland heard it loud and clear, shivering in fright.

"...I hope so..."

"Yeah, when was the last time someone..."

He let out his held in breath and went forth to find the next door with relative ease. The Orb was easy enough to find but to get his claws on it would be impossible. He lacked the powers to get through steel; he'd tried before and was almost caught by a hasty guard who heard his claws rake against the thick metal.

Now that this _associate_ was here, they probably had a way in. If they could destroy the tough stone walls, they could probably decimate the steel wall too. He wondered if they were using some kind of explosive because an earth dragon's destructive blast would never be capable of getting through a dense slab of metal.

He advanced further, keeping to the shadows that lined the floor. Roland found himself at the end of a long corridor and peeked into a deep set of steps that went through the timber floors. Peering around cautiously, he descended further into the depths of the citadel. By now he'd already remembered the complex layout of every room and knew that he was almost at his destination. The Orb was within his grasp, all he had to do was reach it.

Soon enough, a huge metal slab lay before him. He wasn't too surprised to find a rough hole big enough for him to fit through. Checking cautiously for any intruders, he squeezed himself into the sharp hole.

The tunnel was long. Whilst down on his stomach, a couple of scales were torn from his body by sharp, protruding pieces of iron. It was agonising but he didn't mind the pain, not when he was this close to the fantastic prize that waited on the other end.

At the end of the tunnel lay firelight lighting the room in a very antique fashion. And in the centre of that room lay a silver pedestal after a couple of stairs. Need for wealth overtook his mind as he raced for the treasure. Whoever this figure was, they'd done an amazing job at getting him into the small room.

Embedded inside a hole was the priceless artefact itself. It was a creamy white in colour and was gilded shinily. Roland stroked the treasure with his claw.

Before he grasped it, however, he thought he saw something in the corner of his eye. He took a quick look and saw something unmoving on the ground, yellow in colour. More gold? He wasn't sure...

Roland moved to inspect the object. He went downstairs cautiously and turned the corner. It was then that he realised the full force of the situation he was in. He gaped at the sight displayed horrifically before him.

The last thing he was expecting to see was the freshly slain corpse of an electric dragon. His body was covered head to toe in wounds and his thick neck had been sliced open in several places. Shards of ice protruded from different limbs and crimson covered the floor around him in a disgusting pool. No one deserved to die like this...

Breathing heavily, Roland saw a figure move in the shadows. Hesitating slightly, he turned to find nothing at all. He did, however, hear the scuttling of paws along the stone floors.

The shadows moved again, revealing a pair of crimson eyes. There was nothing else to it, though, for the figure kept to the darkness. A voice rung out.

"Are you going to take it?" It came with a little bite and frustration. Roland wasn't able to tell if it was masculine or feminine for they hid it very well.

"D-Did you..." he started to say, trembling in fear at what was to come. The red dragon was generally overconfident and bright but he'd lost any kind of enthusiasm.

"Don't ask, just go!" they hissed venomously.

Roland couldn't help but gawk at the corpse of the dragon. Never did he want to see the dead figure of one of his own kin but his fears had come true. His paws stuck themselves to the floor, his heart racing.

There was the shuffling of paws and a sigh before the shadowy thing was gone. Unmoving, Roland stood silently in utter shock. Something changed in him that night, the greedy thoughts had all but disappeared. Instead, guilt overwhelmed him.

He was frightened by the sound of more footfalls, this time heavier. But he didn't move a muscle for he didn't have the composure. Instead, a dragon four times bigger than himself crashed through the wall behind him. How they'd managed such a task was beyond him, but he was a bigger problem to deal with right now.

Roland was about to move but before he could perform any kind of dodge, he was knocked to the floor with the swipe of a paw. He wasn't unconscious - not yet - but pain was overflowing his form. There was a loud cry that came from the south and he saw something being dragged out from the shadows.

Not getting a chance to see what it was, he felt his eyes close up.

* * *

His vision swam before him, his thoughts unconnected from reality. Roland awoke on a chilly floor with a painful throbbing in his cranium. Remembering the previous events, he checked his surroundings and was shocked to find that he was inside a cell. The walls around him were of a densely packed stone and the front was a section made of steel bars. He'd been in a holding cell before but not quite like this one.

What astonished him next was a dragon, around his age, who could be found knocked out on the ground close to him. She was scaled a light blue colour, her two ivory horns protruded without any kind of curve and her underbelly was of a soft grey. Her leathery wings were the same colours as her body and her tail was curled around her, barbed with a slick scythe-like tail blade. It just so happened to be covered in specks of blood.

Was this the murderer of that electric dragon? He was afraid to think he was being contained with a confirmed killer but at the moment she didn't look too dangerous.

Roland paced sluggishly towards her, getting used to his wobbly paws. "H-Hey."

She didn't stir whatsoever, her soft breaths continued to escape her slightly open maw. This time, he tapped her on the shoulder.

"Mmm..." she hummed, opening and closing her eyes trying to wake up. "Where am..."

Realisation hit the blue dragoness quickly. She stared on wide-eyed at the situation she was in. "The _heck_?"

"Y-Yeah... We've been, um... captured," Roland stuttered, trying to make himself seem nonchalant. His efforts were futile, however.

"What the hell were you doing back there? You just _stood_ in place!" she yelled angrily towards him. He jumped in fright at the sudden outburst.

"Y-You _killed_ him! I... I was shocked..."

"That's no excuse!" She advanced slowly towards him, fangs bared as he backed up against the wall.

"I had no idea someone was going to be _murdered_!" Roland lowered himself, scared by the dragoness. She was truly out of her mind.

His statement made her stop in her tracks. "You had no idea?"

The brief change in mood startled him. "Y-Yeah, I didn't..."

She sighed. "Still no excuse. We had a deal that someone would collect the Orb whilst I did my..." She turned away from him. "It doesn't matter now. My work is done."

Her voice had shifted to one of a depressed nature as she slumped down in front of him. Roland lifted a single brow. "Is something wrong?"

"You don't need to know!" she shouted furiously at him. Almost immediately she calmed herself down.

"I... Okay..."

Despite only just awakening, Roland felt exhausted. His shaky legs wanted to give way under his bodyweight. In the corner of the room was a large bed of hay that he rested his weary body on.

It was uncomfortable but better than the stone ground he'd felt. It wasn't covered in little cracks and dust like the floor, anyway.

"There'll be a trial tommorow," the dragoness stated out of the blue. Trials in Avalar generally happened as soon as someone was captured so it did kind of make sense... As strange as that was...

"We can only hope..." Roland started to say something but was cut off.

"There's no hope for us..." She gazed at the flawed ground in what looked slightly like sadness. "I'll probably be executed."

"Executed? That sounds a little harsh." Roland raised his brow.

"I did kill a dragon." She shrugged. "They probably won't even give me a lawyer."

Roland, in spite of hardly knowing her, pitied the ice dragoness. "I hope you'll be okay." He got strange feelings from her. She seemed to be uncaring of what she had done and what might happen to her. It made him horribly uneasy.

"Thanks, but I don't need your pity." The dragoness scowled at him.

"Just trying to be a little positive." Roland rolled his eyes.

"I'm going to prepare for the absolute worst. You should too," she stated, "they probably think you had something to do with it."

"What? But I didn't even touch him..."

"You were standing over him when he was killed and you were trying to take the Orb..." Narrowing her eyes, she took a quick glance at him. "Treason has never been favoured amongst dragons."

Roland let out a breath inaudibly. "I guess you're right."

There was awkward silence for a few moments. Roland racked his head as he tried to think of a possible escape route. Unfortunately for him, there didn't seem to be a way to squeeze through. The walls were too solid and the ground was too durable. The bars were pressed so tightly together that not even a bird would fit through them. Nowhere in the roof, no windows, no nothing...

He groaned, starting to think this was the end for him. Having his life taken from him was a frightening thought but probably one that he deserved. The proposition Seth had made for him was obviously too good to be true and he'd fallen for it like the idiotic sheep he was. Seth had put him up to this and he wanted a way to avenge himself...

But would he get another chance? He wasn't very sure.

"Say..." Roland asked out of nowhere at all. He had a sudden urge for knowledge. "What do you go by?"

"What's it to you?" she replied.

"We might as well get to know each other... Not like we have anything else to do."

"Good point," the dragoness admitted, "Ashlyn."

"Roland." He smirked at her. Unlike what he'd stated, he didn't usher another word. Instead, he was seated as he silently stared into the wall on the other side. All he could see was an unlit sconce and another wall. It was probably the most interesting thing he was capable of doing.

Eventually he became bored and wondered about the day to come tommorow. If anything, he'd probably be under the same charges as Ashlyn and thus meet the same punishment as her. But he doubted he would actually be executed... He wouldn't be let off scot-free but who would slay a child?

His mind and body became weary as the night sky settled in. The dusty cell only got darker under the night's cloak and Roland found himself closing his eyes. Yet, his brain wouldn't let him slumber peacefully.

Roland's cloudy thoughts continued into the night. Why had Ashlyn slain the high priest? Why did he freeze on the spot? What would _actually_ happen tommorow?

They went by unanswered and Roland was left staring into nothing, his mind blank of any form of notion.

* * *

 **I'd just like to say welcome to Dragon's Ruin and thanks for reading the first chapter!**

 **I'm well aware that I have a review under my own name here. A friend of mine was trolling pretty hard...**

 **Also, you'll probably notice that the first few chapters are a little awkward to read. I might update them at a later date, but for now, just know that it gets a little better the further you read.**

 **Anyway, on with the story!**


	2. Nothing Left to Lose

Nothing Left to Lose

After several exceedingly lengthy hours of staring into nothing, Roland had finally managed a few winks of sleep. The sound of heavy paws pacing was untimely, however. A guard covered in thick regal armour, one of the royal guards themselves, yelled out.

"Time to get up!" he boomed.

Roland groaned in annoyance, his body full of exhaustion that showed in his weary eyes. He let out a low, shaky breath as he peered tiredly at the ice dragoness. Ashlyn appeared to be as ready as she'd ever be.

"The trial starts in an hour. I want you two prepared."

Ashlyn nodded slowly, rubbing her eyes with the tip of a sharp claw. The armoured dragon left without another word. The clanking and jingling of steel plate could be heard passing down the corridor. There was silence for a long time.

"I guess this is it." Ashlyn sighed. "Not like we'll get a fair trial."

"Why is that?" Roland asked in-between a yawn.

"The jurors are lying scumbags," she explained, "they'll do anything in their power to protect the council."

"And what makes you say that?" he questioned her, unbeknownst to her strange logic. The jury was supposed to be fair and reasonable.

"I've seen people killed for crimes they didn't commit," Ashlyn said, "that's as far as I'll go."

Roland abhorred being blocked out, even by this new acquaintance. He chose not to ask about her concerns; he'd already learned about how absurdly hot-headed the dragoness could be.

A brief moment of tranquillity came and went. Moments turned to minutes and those minutes to the hour of judgement. The very same dragon that'd woken them from their slumber earlier came with three more, all suited in armour and all carrying bland expressions. They were probably trained to not show emotion, even if someone had the chance of dying... A chance Roland simply wasn't willing to believe.

"Up we get," the leftmost guard ordered, they followed without another word.

The barred door was unlocked with the click of a key and swung open. Two large dragons, several times Roland's size invaded their cell and led them out the door.

The two lawbreakers were shown through a series of hallways and eventually the outside city. The red dragon had every opportunity to try and escape but he would only end up being caught once more. A delay wasn't what he wanted either, instead desiring to know his punishment.

"I can't wait..." Roland muttered under his breath, sarcasm thick within his tone.

There was a dense crowd of dragons, big and small, lined up to see the two lawbreakers pass by. He expected a deafening ruckus but was met with unexpected quietness. It was unnerving and almost depressing. It was also a little weird how they'd prepared a crowd on such short notice, but he didn't bother questioning it.

"It was nice knowing you," Ashlyn whispered. Roland couldn't tell if she was being serious or not; he thought it was the harsh latter.

"You... too..."

Ashlyn sighed inaudibly. "This is your fault, you know?"

"What?" he exclaimed. "Mine?"

"If you didn't just stand there then we wouldn't have been captured like this... I'd still be out there, you'd still be doing... whatever it is you do."

Strangely enough, he really did find it hard to exchange words with her. He really wanted to say that she'd killed the high priest but didn't think starting an outrage in the middle of a crowd was necessary. They were filed carefully across the street and eventually came to the courthouse, a large building on the southern side of Avalar.

The problem with the building was that it looked nothing like a courthouse; spires jutted out the top like a grand castle, fortifications were built along it's high walls as if it was preparing for a war. Roland had no time to think about the building for he was pushed into a large room filled with rows upon rows of adult dragons. On the leftmost side lay the jurors Ashlyn had spoken briefly about and the opposite wall housed a door leading to another room. There was a stage like a drama theatre on the end furthest from them; a dragon of the fire element was standing formally atop it.

The loud socialising of dragons was slowly replaced with low murmuring as the dragon cleared his parched throat.

"I call Roland and Ashlyn to the stand." he yelled in a harsh tone. How he'd gotten a hold of his name was beyond him. In fact, never before had he seen a trial where two people were being judged in tandem.

Roland didn't enjoy the idea of being judged...

Gulping down his fears, he followed orders and stepped amongst the dragons, followed by guards who took their position at the doors on either sides of the room. He paced slowly up five steps and on to the wooden hall, Ashlyn right behind him.

The stage was more frightening than he'd once thought, especially with hundreds of his own kin staring him down. Trying to stay composed, Roland gazed down at the dull faces of the entirety of the crowd. No-one showed emotion or empathy for him at all. He realised just how much the world cared about him.

"How do you plead?" the judge asked both of them. Ashlyn looked like she was about to speak up but Roland cut her off. She appeared to be shocked with what he said.

"Guilty." He truly did feel sorry for what he'd tried to do now that he knew the city's true feelings for him. At least he'd go out without a delay. The icy dragoness jabbed a claw into his side.

"What is wrong with you?" she hissed quietly at him.

"No point in wasting time..." He replied quietly.

She didn't argue with him, only looking down in disappointment. The judge paced up behind a wooden stand, a mallet of the same material lay on it's surface.

"Then we shall let the jury decide your fate."

He was shocked. Didn't the courts generally hear all the evidence first? Did they already know? Maybe Ashlyn was right...

The silent whispers had now been replaced with total silence. A strange ringing sounded on a loop in his head.

Every member seated in the jury had seemed to come to a decision rather quickly as if they'd spoken about the subject before the trial. Ashlyn's words were coming true. What was even more peculiar was the fact that they weren't dragons but weird figures in green, hooded cloaks. He frowned at them.

He swallowed a ball of fear, maybe his death would come quickly. There was always that hope. However, that feeling was hastily being replaced with a landslide of dread.

"Are there any objections?" the judge called out. Roland gazed up from his position, a hopeful look in his eyes. He remembered how much everyone cared for him. "Then we have a verdict..."

The dense formation of reptiles eyed the judge, curious as to his response. At the same moment, another red dragon treaded up towards him, a hushed whisper came forth. Roland watched him gag violently before quickly regaining his formal composure. Once he'd cleared his throat for the last time, he spoke the one word Roland feared to hear but the word he was certainly expecting.

"Guilty."

There was no outrage, no murmurs of agreement. Absolute quietness...

"We have come to a decision," the judge spoke to the two dragons slightly more personally this time. There was no response from the hushed crowd.

"These two dragons are to be _banished_!"

This managed to get the crowd riled up, Roland was shocked when he heard the word _banished_. From the stories he'd heard, exile was a punishment seemingly worse than anything. Cruel bandits wandered the landscape, weather conditions were some of the most horrible you might ever experience. But even if he did believe them, there was no way to tell if the fables and books were true. After all they were just stories and legends designed to scare children in to not going outside the walls...

Ashlyn's jaw dropped almost immediately. As she'd told him, she thought she was going to be slain in the most horrific way possible. But never did that moment come.

Roland was almost grateful to receive the punishment he did. He could start a new life, head towards a different city, obtain another sewer... His plans sounded fantastic in his mind; the world would be his to explore.

The judgement, as Roland had witnessed, had gotten the crowd screaming in rage. Not once did the judge speak up to them. In fact, he looked almost depressed to send them off in such a fashion. He desired to know why his expression was so saddening but he didn't bother to question him.

A few moments later dragons started to shuffle outside, speaking harshly amongst themselves. Snide remarks and foul comments went this way and that; growling was evident in-between the reptiles. Roland didn't mind, however, for he'd be outside doing whatever he so desired very soon. He had no idea where to start thinking. What he was receiving for his act of high treason was more of a reward than a punishment.

But even if he found the circumstances incredible, Ashlyn didn't appear to feel the same way. She seemed almost furious to hear the word _banishment_. Going into exile didn't seem that awful so he had absolutely no clue why she was feeling the way she did. Instead of voicing his strangely deep concern for her, he smiled joyfully to himself.

"I'm sorry it has to be this way but I have no choice," the judge apologised.

"That's okay." He replied as joyfully as he might ever be. No longer constricted to the walls of the city, the red dragon had an uncountable amount of things he wanted to do.

"I guess we should be packing..." Ashlyn sighed.

"I guess so," Roland replied.

* * *

There was no-one to see them off, no-one to say any kind of goodbye to. Stood outside the gargantuan gate to the city, the red dragon sighed inaudibly. It wasn't like Roland blamed the city, he'd never really gotten to know anybody outside of enemies. In fact, he'd never felt happier in his life; free to do anything to his heart's content.

"I guess this is where we say goodbye." Roland glanced at her.

Ashlyn breathed in violently. He was about to ask her how she felt when she yelled, slashing at him with her claws. He barely dodged the sudden outburst; her paw almost caught him on his scales.

"This is your fault..." She treaded towards him, her voice full of venom. "All your fault..."

"W-What? I didn't do-" He tried to reassure her but there was no way he was getting her to calm down.

"If it wasn't for you, we wouldn't be here. I wouldn't be here!" she screamed out in terrifying rage.

Roland only watched her dread filled eyes in fright. "But..." He tried to get out a sentence but Ashlyn wasn't going to let him.

"If you just moved..." she sneered, "If you just moved when they came running!"

"I..."

"I wold rather have just died than be sent out here... You're _horrible_..."

"I-I'm sorry, okay?" Roland watched on. Something wet filled his eyes. _Tears_? That was peculiar, considering how he hardly knew this dragoness.

"You're just... I _hate_ you..."

Those last three words caught the red dragon off guard. Roland wanted to say something, anything to snap her outrage, but nothing came to mind.

"I wish for you all the best..." she scoffed, turning away from his form. "Have fun, Roland."

And with that, she was gone. He observed her, anger taking over his ragged breathing. It was the last thing he'd expected Ashlyn to do, to just soar into the distance without any form of farewell.

"Well... Fine!" His fury flared.

Roland realised a tear was streaming down his face. He wiped a scaly paw across his eyes, sadness starting to settle in. Soon enough, the dragoness had become a dull speck on the horizon. He stared as much as his eyes could possibly muster, the closest thing he'd had to a friend now gone. With no moment to spare, he kicked off from the ground and soared into the sky.

Tears filling his vision once more, Roland decided to fly over the city one last time. It was dreary and grey compared to a certain previous night, ruining his already saddened mood. Strangely enough, there were no dragons present in the city, no-one wandering the market square, nobody doing the general business.

He eventually gilded over the entirety of the dull city, feeling even worse for wear. Peering into the far distance, he discerned a running river and rocky mountains that rose up above the pale green plains. The cold winds caught underneath his wings, he shot up in ascension. Closing his eyelids, the red dragon thought of the frightening outburst from earlier. There was no answer to the many questions that crossed his clouded mind. What had happened to her? Why was she doing this? Wasn't she happy to not be slaughtered by the executioner?

There was nothing for it. Deciding he didn't like the thought of Ashlyn, he made his way across the large stream he'd inspected earlier. It's water ran quickly towards a dark speck in the distance, it's water gurgled noisily below him. He jerked violently backwards and hovered in the air, his wings beating furiously. A refreshing drink sounded fantastic to him.

Roland veered hastily leftward and settled himself on the dirty bank so he faced the rapids. Dipping his scaled muzzle in, he casually licked up as much water as he can. It was cool in his mouth, refreshing for his cracked maw. He realised he hadn't bothered to eat or drink anything at all.

Now that he was on the subject of food, he eyed the plains hungrily in a search for a meal. Unfortunately for him, there weren't any animals he could spot looming on the pale pastures. With a sigh he kicked back up into the drab sky.

Seconds turned to minutes. Minutes turned to hours. Roland felt like he'd been flying for an eternity, his wings felt like they'd snap under the sheer pressure he was putting on them, his breath came in ragged heaps. He eventually decided to stop his constant flying, descending in a sluggish glide towards the ground.

Roland came to find a lush grove after a few minutes of gliding. He barrelled into the treed area rapidly at a complete loss of control, the harsh wind pushing him without anything to stop him. The red dragon slammed into the top of a tree with a resounding crack, the branches snapping under his force. Tumbling through timber over and over was agonising.

With a hurtful groan, Roland lifted himself to his feet, pain filling his insides. His scales were covered in loose twigs and shredded leaves, his red and golden body amuck with dirt and debris from the crash. He treaded sluggishly towards another long trunk that he rested his bruised head on.

From what his blurred vision was capable of seeing, trees grew densely around him, faint amounts of sunlight played between the miniature holes in the thick canopy. There didn't seem to be any wildlife except for the occasional insect or arachnid. His scales crawled at the sight of large spiders clambering across the forest's rough bark. A freezing wind blew past, sending a chilly shiver up the dragon's spinal cord.

Roland thought the journey ahead would be enjoyable, perhaps even amazing. But, so far, his expectations had been brutally shattered by pain and sorrow. He was sure things could only get better from this point onwards. This was only a terrible start to his trek...

The red dragon positioned himself on his haunches and stared into the dense canopy. He listened in on the sounds; the trees gently collided with one another in the soft winds, the loud calling of a bird reverberated in the high tree tops. There was a sudden movement, like that of a shadow, in the branches.

Roland tried to fix his eyes on the unanticipated leaping motion but after looking for two lengthy minutes, it was nowhere to be found. He ended up accepting that it was his mind imagining strange things. The crash landing had dazed him somewhat heavily.

Feeling lightheaded, Roland paced around the area as he tried to regain any consciousness he might still have. He went past large trees, through the thick shrubbery and around a murky pond that didn't look very appetizing. A small clearing appeared before him after several moments of wandering aimlessly.

"Neat..." he whispered to himself. It was spacious enough to relax in in and – he was going a little too far – maybe he could set a campfire if he was able to gather a few twigs and rocks. Roland knew that he could start a forest fire with the smallest piece of flint. The space was even covered from the sun, trees still lined the sky.

The red scaled dragon grinned at his ideas. Perhaps things were starting to look up? He didn't take his notions lightly, he went around the surrounding grove collecting tiny branches and little stones. There was even a nice striking stone in the dirt...

Maybe he was doing fine...

Roland prepared a ring of rocks and pebbles in the middle of the clearing and threw the twigs he'd found into a heaping pile inside of it. Nodding happily at his handiwork, the dragon laid on the soft grassy floor and closed his eyes. The pain in his cranium had all but disappeared, the bleeding cuts had sealed up on his body. His mood only increased when he saw a deer leap out into the clearing, his eyes widening in surprise. Roland's stomach groaned for a decent meal seemingly on queue.

They were seemingly unbeknownst to his red appearance, he lowered himself almost instantly. He'd tried a slice of juicy venison before and was surprised at its wonderful stringy texture. That was a long time ago... Back when he was with family...

Roland was bewildered to find something out about his childhood. He specifically remembered being seated with a delicious cut of tender deer. Shaking his head from his thoughts, he gently worked his way towards the hunk of meat before him careful to not make any noises on the ground. It was made difficult by the dry leaves that would crunch under any amount of force.

The deer pointed it's head at the grass and took to it like it hadn't had a meal in an eternity. Roland certainly hadn't had a meal in a long period of time, his stomach growled silently as he sluggishly got closer to his tantalising target.

It's vision shifted when he accidentally stepped on a crunchy leaf. His heart pounded in his mind over and over, he couldn't possibly tell how stiff his body went. Fortunately for Roland, his meal gazed in the opposite direction. He felt like he could see a frown on it's features but decided to ignore it.

As it slowly went back to eating it's disgusting meal of plants, he continued his gentle pacing and was eventually at a distance where he could pounce. Timing his jump, he leaped at his helpless victim with his jaw open.

His teeth sank into the deer's flank, it's masculine voice cried out.

" _AAAHHH_! Get off me, you fiendish reptile!"

Roland gazed into the target's furious eyes, shock sprawled across his face. Deer's didn't generally speak... Was he going insane? Was his hunger making him cross the border of sanity?

"I said off!" he yelled angrily. Roland immediately let go of his previous target, deep crimson mixing with the red of his scaly maw.

"W-What-" Roland tried to reply but he was cut off.

"Who do you think you are, you scaly monstrosity?" The deer turned to face him. "You could've slaughtered me!"

The dragon wanted to say ' _That was the intention_ ', but thought better of the remark. "I... S-Sorry..."

"You better be, you _insolent_ thing..." he replied in a snarky tone, staring right into his golden eyes, "I was only having a quick bite and then you come along to take me as dinner! How despicable..."

"I said I was sorry, okay?" Roland shrugged. "I didn't think deer's were... _sentient_..."

He sighed, a low growl replacing his furious tone. "No, generally not. Doesn't mean you should be going around murdering us all..."

"I was hungry..." Roland peered disdainfully at his feet. The deer only glared at him "You looked tasty..."

"Tasty? _Tasty_?" He stood straight, baring a few of his teeth. They didn't look very threatening. "You disgust me, whoever you are."

"What did you expect me to do?" Roland replied in frustration. "You were standing out in the open..."

"You could've survived a little longer, surely," he said and winced, obviously moving something in his now injured rear, "how am I going to get around the world now...?"

"I could fix it..." Roland exclaimed untruthfully. He'd had no past experience fixing wounds. It was too late now, however.

"You do owe me an apology, reptile..." The deer tried to decide whether his statement was a fantastic idea.

"I, um... I-I'll get right to it. Stay there." Roland sprinted off into the woods, leaving the deer alone. Considering leaving forever, he ran as powerfully as his legs could muster. But he stopped in his tracks a moment later, guilt swelling inside his empty stomach. He couldn't just leave him there. He wouldn't...

The dragon searched the trees for the freshest leaf he could find. It came from a humongous oak, a size just perfect for the deer's damaged behind. There was no real medical supplies on hand so a leaf would have to do.

The dragon made his way back to the small clearing he'd called a temporary home to find the deer laying on his stomach. He was munching on grass; Roland guessed it was his favourite activity.

"A leaf? How in the blazes did that take so long?" The deer gazed over in his direction, frowning.

"That doesn't matter," Roland replied sheepishly. He heard the deer sigh before he positioned himself behind him.

The dragon felt a little embarrassed standing behind the deer like this. Closing his eyes, he strapped the makeshift bandage on as tightly as he possibly could, wincing as he did so.

"Better?" Roland spoke sheepishly.

"I guess," the deer said, not feeling at all strange by Roland's peculiar behaviour. He added something under his breath, "Wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you..."

Roland glared at him. "I said sorry..."

"Yes and I appreciate that..." He replied. "I should be off."

"Yeah... Better go before I get too hungry." Roland grinned.

"How humorous." He groaned before bouncing off into the shrubbery ahead of him. The red dragon eyed him one last time before he was truly gone. For the second time in a day, he'd been left all on his lonesome. It was a shame; Roland found the deer to be quite an interesting individual. It wasn't every day you saw an intelligent deer.

Now with nobody to chat with, Roland stared down at the unlit fire pit he'd constructed quickly. The chilly air of the night was starting to settle in, a dim moonlight was splayed across the lush blades on the forest floor. Without a second thought, he grabbed the black flint in a paw and struck it against another stone.

There was nothing to see for a few moments but a sparking came when he got the angle just right. With one last powerful crack, the pit of twigs burst into a fiery inferno. He grinned joyfully at his work.

"Perfect," he muttered to himself as the stench of firewood filled his nostrils. The fire swam before him; he could've sworn he'd seen something inside the blaze besides burning timber. An image of some kind. The visage of someone else, screaming in terror and petrified of something Roland was unbeknownst too. Just as quickly as he'd blinked, it was nowhere to be seen but the portrayal continued to haunt his frightened mind. Startled, Roland lay on the forest floor with nothing to do.

He was reminded of his hungriness; his stomach was sent groaning in response. There had to be another meal that wasn't a snarky deer. Unfortunately, there was nothing to find in the dense forestry. There were spiders - oh, so many spiders - but they weren't the most appetizing source of nourishment. Plus, he'd probably seriously injure himself trying to grab one; he could almost imagine the razor sharp fangs of an arachnid piercing his armoured scales, venom sluggishly coursing his veins.

Roland shivered nervously and stopped the train of thoughts right where it had started. He wasn't sure what would happen over the course of the encroaching night. Would he even survive the darkness? Would he ever wake up again?

Stopping again, the dragon closed his eyes. He knew he'd make it... Nothing would happen to him.

 _Right_?

* * *

The rupturing of a withered leaf woke Roland from his deep slumber. He gazed around wearily, the warm firelight of his campfire was cast around the surrounding grove. Roland hadn't made the noise and there was nobody around to own up to it. He raised a brow before trying to continue his rest.

There it went again, the dragon quickly glanced in the direction of the noise. Again, there was nobody to be seen, only the neighbouring trees and bushland. Despite the fact that nothing was there, Roland felt anxious and picked himself up off the ground. With a low groan and the cracking of his tired bones after stretching, he moved towards the sound's direction in an attempt to discern who was making it.

He found absolutely nothing, his small walk proved fruitless at best. He heard the movement again and paced in it's direction. Again, he heard it and retraced his steps. Again. Again. Again...

Roland felt like he was on the brink of downright insanity. He wasn't even sure if he was hearing the noises, they constantly replayed on a horrifically hasty loop. Louder and louder, over and over. They would never end; Roland put his paws to his head in agony.

There was a voice.

"Look what we have here, folks! A dragon!" a cruel, malicious tone called out.

"And it's all ours to keep!" another, this one raspy, spoke. "Look at those horns!"

"You'd fetch a decent price..." a third spoke with deep vigour.

Roland started to back off a little, even if he wasn't absolutely certain which way was back. The dragon could hear the voices audibly but they appeared to belong to nobody at all. He wondered if they were all in his head.

Scared out of his wits, Roland continued pacing backwards. That was until he ran his scaly flank into something soft. He turned and found a hooded face eyeing him, a grin apparent on his expression

"Hello."

The dragon wanted to sprint but he didn't find the time. Something rigid forcefully smashed into the top of his skull without any warning. He was put on the forest floor almost immediately.

Roland's vision swam before him. Instinctively, he rolled across the ground and found a heavy-handed axe cut swiftly into the grass beside him. There was a low growl as he found his clumsy footing.

He tried to sprint but found another adversary standing in his path. A huge, jewelled claymore was carried in its gloved hands.

"Hey, little dragon," they spoke hoarsely as they as they swung the blade hastily in his direction. Without a moment to spare, Roland ducked quickly under the ferocious power of the steel. He tried to run once more but was easily stopped by another robed figure.

This one didn't even stop to lay a snarky remark; it drew back a massive glaive in an attempt to skewer him through. Roland dived at just the right time, his heart pounding rapidly. He wouldn't be able keep up the constant dodging forever. He couldn't.

Lengthy moments turned to sluggish minutes. He couldn't soar into the sky, the trees above him were too dense and the thick entrance required him to be grounded. One of the figure's had a longbow slung tightly on their shoulder, he didn't want to test how deadly accurate they were. The gargantuan sword he'd seen came careening at his cranium, his agile paws moved him on instinct.

Roland didn't know what his options were. The opportunities he had to dodge the weapons were decreasing rapidly, the space became dreadfully small. There was nobody to assist him, no-one to get him out of the horrible situation he was in. He could either die or suffer a fate worse than death.

His movements started to slow, his breathing was riddled with exhaustion. There was no window to try and attack; he'd never trained in the art of combat either. Roland started to lose focus on the horrific battle he was taking place in.

That was the worst mistake he could have ever made. He was unbeknownst to the axe that careened violently overhead and directly into his spine. Roland screamed out in agony as it shredded through his armoured scales like paper. Tears filled his hindered vision; a sick round of laughter burst out from one of the robed figures.

The axe was torturously pulled out of Roland's damaged back, immense pain reverberated throughout his body. There was nothing he could do. He slumped onto the ground in defeat, letting out small pained cries. He was going to die... This was where his life would end; at the hands of a bunch of strangers. Why did it have to end like this? _Why_?

Roland's tears came drizzling out his eyes but he tried not to make a sound. He didn't want to seem absolutely fragile, the small amount of pride he still had was there. But it was undeniably difficult; a certain vast slash in his backside sent dreadful aches rocketing trough his form.

Roland almost wanted to be killed. He wanted someone to put him out of his misery, but the moment never came. Instead, he felt something grab on to his hind legs and drag him unhurriedly across the grassy floor. He didn't even try to retaliate as he wasn't going to get very far.

He started to tire as soon as he had been moved. The loss of blood he'd suffered from the wound was too much; he felt his eyelids closing in on themselves. But the little determination he had left kept them open. He needed to know what was happening.

There was a strange feeling of hope for a few moments. He could almost feel a pair of eyes trying to discern the situation. They didn't belong to the robed entities either.

The craziest thing unfolded before Roland's eyes. The enemy with the axe stopped in their tracks, something crystalline and bloody protruding from their chest. With a low groan, they fell to the grassy floor with a noisy thump, crimson pooling around their broken body.

The two remaining were utterly shocked to see their ally go down without a word. They instantly let go of the dragon and he landed on his stomach, winding his already beaten figure. They gazed warily at their immediate surroundings, weapons drawn in their mitted hands. Roland would've ran at that point but didn't have the physique required to get away. He lay there, watching the certain chaos that was to ensue.

Out of the corner of his vision, another deadly shard of what appeared to be ice soared towards its next would-be victim. With a hasty swing of their blade, they cut it clean out of mid-air. Roland was estimating whether another would careen out of nowhere but the expectations he had were incorrect. The thing that emerged, however, was absolutely unexpected.

They were scaled blue and, most of all, they were familiar. _She_ was familiar...

Ashlyn was the last thing, the last dragon, he'd been expecting to see at this moment, especially to have followed him all the way to this grove...

Roland found his footing with a new found amount of determination and hope. He was shaky, unbalanced and his back ached with a flaring pain but he managed to stand. He gazed over at Ashlyn who appeared to be utterly furious.

"Let him go," she spoke, her voice a snarl.

"And what do you want with him?" the raspy one retorted, "We found him. Do you have a death wish?"

"It appears so..." she said, standing tall and trying to in the least bit threatening. If it was Roland standing there, he would dart at the first sign of peril. These robed opponents, however, didn't budge whatsoever.

"Your funeral..." the deeper voice lowered his glaive and charged at blindingly fast speeds. Ashlyn stood her ground and prepared for the nastiness of his strike.

Roland was anticipating her to at least dive out of the way but she took the full brunt of the glaive head on. He wanted to scream out but found no such noise.

Ashlyn took the heavy spear to the gut with a low grunt. It was lodged horrifically in her lower left; Roland had no clue how she took the full force of that devastatingly powerful weapon. Then she did something completely unforeseen.

Ashlyn drew her face back and out of her maw came an explosive amount of ice that blasted away her hooded attacker and the dreadful weapon embedded in her stomach. Blood started to drizzle out of her stab wound but she wasn't concerned. The figure hit the dirt close to the still burning campfire.

Roland observed her wide-eyed at the catastrophic amount of elemental power she'd just exhibited. Next, she walked up to the next target who stood his ground, blade in hand.

"Stay back!" the raspy voice called out, shaking out of his wits, "I-I'll kill-"

"Shut up already," Ashlyn cut him off with a loud snarl as she leaped at him. She toppled the robed figure over forcefully and smacked him swiftly in the head with her paw. He fell into an unconscious state immediately.

Roland could only watch and stare in utter shock. It had all happened so quickly; he was about to be hauled off somewhere and now Ashlyn was with him once more. She didn't look very joyful.

"What were you thinking?" She growled lividly.

"A-Ashlyn..." Roland was at an awful loss for words.

"Roland!"

"I, um..." he peered down in embarrassment, "I was just looking for a place to stay..."

"A place to stay? Really?" She yelled angrily. "You could've went anywhere! The next town or city..."

Ashlyn was getting on Roland's nerves. She was furious at him and he had absolutely no idea why.

"If I could've went anywhere, then why did you follow me?" Roland glared, irritated by her constant shouting. This question, however, appeared to vex her on an immense scale.

"I followed you because I knew you had absolutely _no_ idea what you were getting into!" She started storm swiftly towards him. "If it wasn't for me, you'd be dead!"

"Why are you so angry at me?" Roland asked quietly over the dreadful noise she was creating.

This managed to stump her for a few seconds. Roland was about to think he had won the tense argument before she spoke. "Because I'd rather any other punishment than this. And we're here because of you."

Ashlyn's icy glare was like a pair of sharp daggers lodging themselves into his body. He was frightened, sure, but he continued anyway.

"Sorry I'm not _perfect_ , Ashlyn..." He scowled at her. This caused her to shout suddenly in sheer fury.

Roland was about to say something to try and lighten her mood but she didn't give him a chance. With a powerful barge, he was sent barrelling through the air at what felt like light speed. He couldn't stop himself for he was too unstable careening through the air. With a loud and incredibly painful slam, Roland smashed into the ground, his damaged spine being the landing point.

With an ear piercing yell, Roland was pulled along the ground at frightening speeds in the most agonising position. He left a trail of deep crimson blood behind him, staining the grass a harsh red. He eventually came to a halt, devastated.

His spine flared painfully like it'd been cut even deeper than it had previously. He felt even more tears welling up in his eyes but he stopped them quickly. With an aching burn, he turned his head sluggishly to find Ashlyn staring at him, clearly shocked. It was written all over her wide-eyed, gaping expression.

She sprinted, almost flew, to his position and leaned over his battered body. Ashlyn said something he never expected to come out of her scaled maw.

"I'm sorry!" her voice came on repeat over and over again. "I d-didn't know!"

Roland bit back a choked cry and replaced it with words. "I-It's o-okay... I'm... fine..."

"I can't... I just..." Ashlyn tried to speak, her voice trembling fearfully for what she might've afflicted on his form. Was she worried about him dying? Wasn't she supposed to be an assassin of some kind? Roland didn't know what to think as he tried to ignore the agony deep inside his figure.

The red dragon tried to stand but couldn't get on his shaking paws. He was much too broken to even think about getting off the forest floor. He was going to be stuck here forever. Left to die because of a stupid remark. He'd just rot away right in this very grove.

Then he heard something that he didn't foresee. Another round of that dreadfully wicked laughter rang out from something in the distance. It wasn't him and it certainly wasn't Ashlyn. She didn't sound anything like that sick tone.

He realised it was coming from the robed figure with the glaive. He was still on the ground and close to the clearing's lush entrance. The thing that was different about his weapon was that it was blazing with the embers from his campfire.

And he was holding it to the leaves of the trees...

Ashlyn tried to stop him and she succeed by firing a keen glacier at his hooded head but not before he'd set the entire grove alight. The small fire rapidly started to turn into a gargantuan inferno.

"Oh... Ancestors..." Ashlyn spoke to herself, her voice still shaky from fright. There was no way she'd be able to take care of such an immense fire with only her ice breath.

She looked like she might just sprint out through the entrance but she hesitated. Roland watched as she leant down and handed him a paw, something he would never predict happening. But it was of no use, he was terribly injured and wasn't able to stand whatsoever.

"J-Just leave me, Ashlyn..." He grinned weakly at her. It was probably the bravest thing he might ever do. The ice dragoness had other ideas, however.

"I'm not leaving you here." Her shouting came directly towards him, urging him to take her paw. She didn't seem to be angry, however. In fact, she sounded frightened.

Roland took a few drawn out moments to peer around with his somewhat hindered vision. Just as he had feared, everything was ablaze. The denseness of the grove was burning before his very eyes, the pungent stench of wood smouldering filled his nostrils. The timber from desecrated trees was falling rapidly to the ground in huge, ashy piles. After a few excruciating seconds of hesitation, he reluctantly took the blue paw.

It stung like the wound had just been freshly cut, crimson from the horrible slice soaked in with the murky red of his scales and dirt splayed all over his figure. With a groan, he was miraculously on his paws despite the pain he'd just felt. Ashlyn started to run quickly and he followed suit.

He sprinted through the destructive inferno as fast as his legs would carry him. His back flared like hell itself had been unleashed upon him, yet he kept running. Nothing was going to stop him now. Not the pained choking he was giving into, not the devastation ensuing in front of his eyes. He dodged clumsily between falling, fiery branches and leaped over debris scattered everywhere.

Roland's breathing became laden with fatigue, his vision started to be obscured with an overwhelming amount of darkness. His injury wasn't going to heal before he succumbed to the persistent amount of crimson his body was being drained of. The paws which had carried him rapidly were slowing quickly.

But he wouldn't stop, not now and not ever. There was just that small, tingling feeling of hope that wriggled its way into his mind that that kept him going.

He was still pleasantly surprised to see Ashlyn running beside him. Roland would've thought she would just leave him like she had not long ago.

He also noticed that she was tiring quickly and appeared to be in some form of pain. The glaive she'd taken earlier must've been more fatal than she could conceive...

The exit was in sight; the once luxuriant leaves were blazing ferociously. Without a second thought, Roland tried to lift himself into the sky. His injury flared all the same but it didn't halt him whatsoever. Up he went until he shot out of the top with only a minor burn.

He wanted to start laughing from sheer joy but his throat was choked up and his mouth dry. Now that he was using all of his might for the strenuous task of flying, he was exhausting his last supplies of blood hastily. His vision was blacking around him once more, fiercer than last time.

After several minutes of excruciating flight, he had to come to a stop. He wasn't even able to tell if Ashlyn was still with him. Groggily, he landed with a loud thump that resounded inside his mind.

His limbs refused to move. Roland wanted to call out for help but couldn't find the sound inside his throat. The world started to spin violently around him, his vision fading rapidly.

 _Was he going to die?_

That was the last question that crossed his mind before he passed out from the lack of blood circulating within him.


	3. Blind Luck

Blind Luck

With a hurtful yelp, Roland awoke panting raggedly from his slumber. The first thing he noticed was that the flaring agony located in his broken spine had dulled to an aching throb. His eyes blurred, he tried to discern where he was only to find that he was no longer on the grass dying of hapless haemorrhaging but inside of some kind of bedroom. His body was splayed across a soft bed so that he wasn't on his damaged back.

Had someone rescued him?

He gazed at the room in further detail. The walls were of a nice, tanned timber and the floor was boarded evenly with a smooth wood. There was a small desk to one side of the room and a door on the other. Overall, it appeared to have been made rather quickly with him in mind.

There was something that wasn't there, however. Something familiar...

Ashlyn was nowhere to be seen again...

He panicked a little at first. But he came to realise that he didn't expect anything less. She had no need of him. She didn't want to be with him...

Roland was disturbed from his deep thinking when the door of the room swung open rather suddenly. The strangest thing treaded through that door; he swore that he was actually going bonkers.

A deer paced into the room.

Roland wanted this nightmarish dream to come to an immediate close but he wasnt provided with what he desired. Instead, the deer spoke up.

"I see you have awoken from your... rather deep slumber..."

Roland coughed heavily to himself. It was that same deer who he had tried to hunt earlier. Why was he here? Did he live here? Why did he of all things save him? The questions were hurting his somewhat fragile mind.

"I heard a yell..." He frowned at him. "It seemed to resonate from up here and I appear to be correct."

The dragon let out a painful groan as he shuffled in the warmth of his bed. His throat as dry as a desert, Roland managed a few choked words.

"Where am I?"

The deer glanced at him. "My home."

Roland was silent for a few moments, absolutely befuddled. This deer was full of unexpected surprises.

"What happened?" Roland asked, a frown on his face.

"Well," the deer explained, "after incinerating the nearest grove, I found you on death's door with some other expiring dragoness..."

"Ashlyn..." Roland muttered silently to himself. The ice dragoness must've followed him through.

"I decided to assist you despite our, ehm... current relationship..." the deer continued quickly. "And now, here we are. I've mended you... I think..."

Roland choked painfully on what felt like smouldering ashes. "You think?"

"I could've just left you to rot in the grove..." he spoke grimly, "it's not like I needed to assist you."

"Okay, okay..." The dragon shifted around again and tried to stumble out of his bed. The deer didn't want him advancing, however.

"I wouldn't proceed if I were you." He put a hoof up in his general direction, motioning to stop him in his tracks. "You would collapse as soon as soon as you put a paw down."

Roland hesitated, listening to the deer's helpful advice. "Well... I need to get out at some point..."

"That point isn't now." He glared, his tone full of frustration.

Roland sighed quietly before continuing to situate himself on the softness of the bed. He gazed at the deer for a few lengthy moments, taking in the details of his body, something he was yet to do.

Similar to most deer, he was a pale brown in colour. Miniscule white spots lined his spine unevenly that slithered up the back of his lean neck and stopped directly at the very summit of his skull. There was no sign of antlers protruding regally out of his cranium; Roland found that to be very peculiar. A tiny tail jutted smoothly out of his rear; it was almost laughable compared to a dragon's. He stood with an air of confidence and pride; he appeared to be intelligent if Roland was guessing from the bizarre dialect of words and phrases he expressed his proud voice in.

"Will you quit gazing at me?" he spoke, irritated by Roland's constant gawking.

"Oh, um... Sorry..." Roland grinned embarrassedly to himself, he could feel his cheeks warm lightly. If not for his scales, it would be all too discernible. "Well... what do I do then?"

"Rest." The deer nodded sternly.

"I can't," Roland admitted truthfully. There was no way he was getting anymore sleep. "Why don't we get to know each other?"

"If you insist." He rolled his eyes. "What do you wish to know?"

He pondered his thoughts for a few moments and he found one that seemed to be a little more important than the others.

"Your name."

The deer bowed slightly before delivering. "I go by Darryl."

Roland smirked weakly before asking Darryl another question. "How long have I been here for?"

"If I've added it up correctly, around a week."

Roland's eyes immediately broadened in shock. A whole week? He had the impression that he'd only just passed out from the severe loss of crimson.

"A week?" he asked yet again.

"Yes, a week," Darryl replied shortly.

Roland couldn't believe what the deer was telling him. A week he had been laying in a bed right in front of the dark embrace that was death. But, miraculously and from the assistance of a somewhat friendly deer, he was alive. It was almost inconceivable to think he had survived such a harsh turn of unfortunate events.

Then something else hit him. He mustered up the huge amount of strength it took to ask.

"Is she okay?"

Darryl lowered his head slightly, peering at the boarded floor. Roland feared the absolute worst before he spoke up. "She's still slumbering, I believe..."

"Can I see her?" Roland questioned quietly, forgetting Darryl's previous remark. He shook his head sluggishly.

"Didn't you hear me previously?" Darryl replied, his features expressing annoyance. Roland, however, wasn't one to listen and immediately leaped to his paws from the warmth of the bed.

He regretted it deeply; a sharp, stabbing pain rocketed up his back once more. But by now, Roland had been able to get used to the hurtful knives that slithered wickedly into his scales on repeat and, albeit shakily, he managed to pace around the soft wood of the room. Darryl couldn't believe his eyes.

"Twice you have managed to pull off the impossible, dragon." Darryl spoke, shocked to see the dragon moving around.

Roland grinned weakly in his direction. "Roland... My name's Roland," he groaned quietly as another quick burst of agony crept up his spine.

"My guess is that you wish to see the dragoness herself?" he guessed precisely.

"Exactly." Roland treaded unhurriedly towards the wooden door of the room and, with a soft grunt, pushed it open with his golden horns. He was treated with a staircase, probably his worst adversary at this point.

"Do you need a hand?" Darryl asked him, pacing up behind him. Roland looked back and smirked happily.

"Stairs are nothing." He turned back and put his shaking paw on the first wooden step and was instantly met with a noisy creak.

"They haven't aged well..." Darryl replied hastily to Roland's soft wince. The dragon didn't make a noise as he slowly crept down the squeaky steps.

Each and every single one made a loud, startling sound that Roland wasn't capable of ignoring. They were painful to hear, he shuddered after every step he took. However, as quick as he had started walking, they were gone and he was on the bottom floor. He thanked the Ancestors inaudibly for letting him pass through such a tedious task unhindered.

"Which way?" Roland turned his head to the deer who was still moving down the terrifyingly loud set of creaky steps. He motioned his head to the left and Roland quickly gazed in the direction to see a short hallway.

"On the end." Darryl spoke quickly, Roland rapidly found his way to the location. There was another door and Roland easily pushed through to see another bedroom much like his own. Again, it was bland and looked like it'd been rapidly pieced together for someone.

That someone happened to be Ashlyn, who was sleeping soundlessly on a bed. Roland sprinted despite the pain that flared in his back over in her direction.

She didn't appear to be very damaged. All Roland could see was a tiny pink scar and a few torn scales where she had been damaged previously. She was almost at peace in her position. Roland was about to tap her in order to wake her but something glinted shinily in the corner of his eye. Right there, on her claw, sat a golden ring that held a small, blue jewel. He thought about whether he could take it, his greed flaring by tenfold, but he decided that would be a horrible idea. His relationship with the dragoness was already terribly shaky.

With a soft prod, he pushed Ashlyn gently. "Hey... Ashlyn..."

There was a small amount of stirring from her part which made his worries die completely. He poked her slightly harder. "Ashlyn."

With a low groan, the dragoness opened her eyes as she tried to knock out the sleep she still had.

"Roland? Is that you?" she muttered tiredly.

"Yeah, it's me," he replied, a small grin on his face. Ashlyn sighed quietly.

"Where are we?" She waited for a response but before Roland could answer, Darryl walked inside and answered for him.

"You're inside my humble abode." The deer bowed slightly. Ashlyn leaped back, shock sprawled all over her expression.

"T-Talking deer!" She pointed accusingly at him, pulling the sheets up defensively. "W-When did meals start talking?"

Darryl sighed in frustration. "Since I've been here, you ignorant reptile."

Roland chuckled soundlessly to himself. "Why don't we do this somewhere else?"

"I couldn't agree more." Darryl spoke up. "Come, both of you."

* * *

"So, you saved us?" Ashlyn asked. Darryl nodded.

"That is correct," he exclaimed rather proudly, "that is, after you nearly burnt my house to a cinder."

"That wasn't our fault..." She narrowed her eyes. Roland only sighed.

After explaining everything he knew about their current situation to Ashlyn and digging into a few surprisingly tasty berries, Roland was almost ready to make tracks. He did, however, oblige to say a hasty goodbye and thank you to Darryl.

"You're very welcome, Roland. It's not everyday I get visitors." Darryl smirked meekly then added a few words under his breath in annoyance. "Even if you're forced to..."

"Goodbye, I guess..." Roland nodded a little depressingly. He had taken a small liking to the deer and didn't feel like leaving his humble cottage but there really was nothing to it. He had to go at some point.

With a quick beat of his wings, he took to the air but, to his gratitude, he wasn't on his lonesome. Ashlyn had decided to follow him for most of the way. She was the one who had thought it would be best to break-up once they were at their destination, the closest city.

Warfang happened to be the closest settlement; the legendary dragon city of old. It was west of their position, an obvious blurred dot on the distant horizon. Despite feeling so close, Warfang was still exceedingly far away and it would take one lengthy day to even get halfway to the dragon city soaring through the sky at max speeds. Roland seriously doubted his own abilities when it came to endurance in the air so it would probably be a much more extensive trip.

He leisurely ascended over the decimated grove once more. There was nothing left, only black, charred trees and depressing ashes. There was no sign of healthy wildlife left anywhere and the blaze must've continued for what seemed like miles. What was left of the once lush forest was an ashy, grey, smoking pile of absolute devastation. Roland pitied for the flora and fauna lost in such a brutal firestorm.

When gazing at the ice dragoness flying somewhat close to him, she appeared to be slightly saddened to see such a thing. Roland found himself feeling strange things whenever he saw her. Sometimes she was joyful, a lot of the time she was hot-headed. He'd seen guilt emanate from her sorrowed expression when he'd basically asked to be smashed and now she was worryingly depressed. She confused him to no end.

To break the long-standing silence, Roland voiced his concerns for her peculiar feelings.

"Are you alright, Ashlyn?" He already knew the answer but she responded untruthfully, irritated to hear him question her.

"Yes, I'm fine." She gazed at him blankly. Soon enough, however, she went back to her silent, miserable mood.

"Ashlyn..." He tried once more but was hastily cut off.

"I'm fine-" In the end, Roland interrupted her.

"Don't be like that!" he yelled furiously at her. Roland was sick and tired of her being so distant. He was afraid he would hear a wicked retort but all he got was a face that expressed deep dejection. "I worry about you..."

"I..." she started to say. Roland gave her a caring gaze. He didn't really know much about her but already he treated her as more of a close friend than he had anyone, despite the fighting that happened constantly between them. Even if he had heard those past three, hateful words directed at him earlier...

"What is it?" He swooped in a little closer to her.

"I'm sorry, Roland..."

Roland was absolutely astonished. He didn't have the closest idea of what he was capable of saying. She was sorry? What was she apologetic for? Everything so far had been his fault. She had even said so...

"S-Sorry?" he asked, befuddled as to her reasoning. "For what? You haven't did anything wrong."

"I'm sorry for how I've treated you," Ashlyn explained herself. "Sorry for what I've said... Sorry for attacking you like that..."

Roland let out a quivering breath. What she was saying had some merit but it'd always been him to make her proceed to such dreadful lengths. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Ashlyn."

"I do," she stated shortly, gazing into his eyes. He'd never noticed the vibrant colour of her own, a deep abyss of pure scarlet that conflicted substantially with the shade of her blue scales. "I blamed you for everything when it wasn't your fault. I did horrible things when I shouldn't have... I did everything wrong!"

Roland winced internally at the unforeseen shout. "You're wrong." He glanced at the ground far below them. "I was the one to drag us into this. As you said, if only I had actually moved..."

"I killed him, Roland," Ashlyn stated, her voice trembling negligibly, "if not for me, then we wouldn't be here..."

Roland sighed before trying to be logical. "I'm sure you had a reason."

The ice dragoness came to a sudden halt in the sky, her breathing tremulous.

"Um, Ashlyn?" Roland turned to face her, rapidly beating his wings to stay afloat. "Is something wrong?"

She didn't respond to his extensive unease, staring coldly into what appeared to be nothingness. Roland's brow lowered slightly as he tilted his skull leftward.

"A-Ashlyn?" he asked noisily. Immediately, she fell out of her peculiar trance.

"Oh, um... L-Let's go..." She glanced at him before continuing leisurely towards their destination. Roland frowned, baffled by her strange behaviour. Without a second thought, he followed quickly in her direction.

They soared unhurriedly over green plains and lush trees that weren't destroyed by the ruinous blaze. The land formations started to get seemingly more rocky and mountainous as they passed the border on the plains that were Avalar. Roland never understood why the city had been called Avalar yet the land was named similarly. Only the great Ancestors would be able to answer truthfully why someone was so idiotic to name the valley such a way.

Avalar was once known for its huge cheetah population that seemed to keep growing. Eventually, they were forced out by the dragons who desired the land for their urban and farming areas. According to the stories, they didn't complain very much. In fact, they accepted willingly if what he was reading was entirely correct. Despite knowing this, there was always a weird feeling that seemed to seat itself in his mind. Accepting being taken over without any confrontation was always puzzling.

Snapping out of his useless thoughts, Roland continued to gaze on at his surroundings. There was a large lake that ran quietly below them, a huge, jutting rock that seemed incredibly out of place. Hours passed by sluggishly.

The celestial moons creeped over the skyline, casting an air of blackness over the landscape. Eventually, darkness became too much to fly in and the two dragons decided it would be best if they took to the ground for a rest. Panting fiercely, Roland came into contact with the ground with a noisy thud.

Although tripping carelessly over his own paws, he stuck the landing with only a slightly jarred leg. What they happened to land in was an aged, used campsite. There was a small pit full of pieces of ashy charcoal and little twigs that went unburnt were scattered all over the place. A few trees dotted the pale plains but it was difficult to tell in the black of night with no campfire to light the way. That blurred, miniscule shape on the horizon was still apparent, some kind of illumination was cast over it.

"Hey, Roland?" Ashlyn spoke up. He inclined his head and let out a soft grunt, "light that fire."

Roland quickly got to the task at hand. Seated in the pile of black cinders was a flint of the same colour. Grasping it within his paws, he gazed around for another rock to strike against. A grey stone of almost the same size was at his feet. He struck the two together, an echo reverberated from around them and a large spark flew into the sky.

"Um..." Ashlyn frowned while he was trying to set a blaze. "What are you doing?"

He lowered his scaly brow back in her direction. "I'm doing what you asked..."

Ashlyn angled her head rightward. "You're a fire dragon, aren't you?"

Roland bit back a noisy cough that had raised in his throat. "I, um... don't have an element..."

She jumped back in astonishment. "You don't? That's strange... How old are you?"

"Fourteen..." he answered truthfully.

"Same age as me and you cant tap into it at all?" Ashlyn continued, completely bewildered, "Not even the littlest spark?"

"As I said, no," he repeated.

"Can you even feel it down there?" She appeared to be pitying him.

"I feel a bit empty down there..." On queue, Roland's stomach groaned for a decent meal. There were the berries from earlier, but a small sample of fruit wasn't going to do him much good. "Speaking of being empty..."

"Don't change the subject..." She glared rather frighteningly.

"It's a... touchy subject..." he explained sadly, "I've never been able to use it at all, no matter how much I try. Nothing comes out."

"You're not one of those rare grey dragons so maybe it's just a little late?" Ashlyn tried to be reassuring.

"A little..." he repeated, "it should've come by now..."

"Most dragons find it at twelve. You're just unlucky." Ashlyn smiled weakly at him. "Don't worry, it'll come eventually."

"Yeah... eventually." He returned the smirk. "Now, what about food?"

"I guess I can find something... I'll be back in a second." Ashlyn instantly sprinted off, leaving the red dragon on his lonesome. He went back to slamming the two rocks together and at long last, finally managed to strike a smouldering ember into the pit of ashes. The small blaze caught on to a small twig and fire started spreading across the fireplace quickly. Happy with his work, Roland went to relaxing peacefully by the warmth of fire.

The red dragon was having very strange feelings about the dragoness. First of all, she was hating him beyond belief and now she was completely fine with him. Her mood seemed to change just like that, on a whim. From his partial experience with people, he knew that nobody would act like that. Maybe she was trying to make up for nothing?

Maybe she was just lying about being sorry?

But the entire apology seemed so genuine. There was no lie in her tone or expression. She looked truly and deeply sorry for anything she might've actually done. Despite all this, he was still blaming himself for the wretched events that led up to their banishment and the grove burning to smoking slag.

He was shaken from his clouded mind when Ashlyn landed close to him, something white and fluffy in her paws. She dropped the animal carelessly at his paws and went to lay on the other side of the warm campfire.

"Aren't you going to eat?" Roland asked with a concerning gaze.

"I'm not hungry." She peered over the flames, a tiny smirk playing on her blood-stained muzzle.

"Are you sure?" he questioned once more, "I mean, I could just cut it in half..."

"It's all yours." She sighed and went to gazing out into distance away from him.

Roland shrugged before looking at the broken corpse before him. It was a rather plump rabbit, nicely sized and most certainly a good meal. He still felt terribly guilty for devouring such a tasty meal by himself, though.

He gazed into the bright constellations above him, he could see a huge, glowing constellation named after the world's ancestral saviour, Spyro's Breath. The red dragon always recognised the shape, a figment of what looked like fire and smoke. Despite knowing the exact locations of the vivid stars and their brilliant structure, he never put the time into researching the other vast majority of constellations and moons. He never had the time in-between doing business in the city square he used to pace everyday.

Stargazing made Roland want to doze off right there. He felt his eyelids falling quickly and, eventually, he started to nap.

Several hours passed before he woke himself. The stars still illuminated the blackness of the sky, the celestial moons still cast their dim light over the grassy plains. The only thing that'd changed was Ashlyn's position, sitting on her haunches and staring into the starry night. She didn't seem to take any notice of his short slumber.

The tone she seemed to carry was one of deep depression. Roland made soft movements to not alert the dragoness of his obvious presence. He stepped quietly and he lined himself up behind her.

After clearing his throat to grab her attention, he spoke. "What's up?"

"Just stargazing..." she exclaimed, continuing to peer into the dazzling sky.

There was a short-lived silence before Roland continued, a worried glint in his eyes. "You're looking a little tired."

"I am," she replied, now gazing at him, "I can't really get to sleep."

"Sitting over here and thinking won't get you very far." He grinned weakly.

"I'm not thinking," she exclaimed with a slight glare. "Just looking..."

"You're obviously thinking." His smirk widened.

"Nothing you need to know, Roland." She sighed. "It doesn't concern you."

"Well, alright..." He rolled his eyes quickly. "Be distant..."

Ashlyn only followed up with a weak huff before resuming her previous activity. The red dragon was about to tread off but hesitated.

"You need sleep, Ashlyn." His perturbed tone came.

"Roland, I'm fine-" She started to say but was hastily cut off.

"Stop saying you're fine when you're obviously not." He glowered in frustration.

"You have nothing to worry about." She glanced back at him, scowling. "It doesn't concern you."

"I have you to worry about!" he replied noisily. The angriness on Ashlyn's muzzle automatically faded. There was a lengthy silence.

"Roland," she responded. "I don't need-"

"And I'll just reveal everything about me on a whim!" he growled at her.

"This is different!" she tried to explain but Roland wasn't going to stop there. He was sick and tired of being waved off like that.

"How is this any different? I didn't put you off."

"Roland! Stop it!" she shouted terrifyingly at him. He wasn't afraid, however.

"I only want to know what's wrong so I can help you!" Roland yelled back.

"You don't need to know!"

"Stop being so distant!"

With a startling yell, she pounced aggressively at him. He didn't have the time to dodge the dragoness who sent him careening into the ground.

Now pinning him down, Ashlyn held a paw high above her head in what looked like an attempt to strike him. "Just stop! Stop it!"

He wriggled and squirmed to get free of her powerful grip but his efforts were futile. "No, Ashlyn! Just tell me what's wrong!"

"Roland, I swear to the Ancestors!" she snarled furiously

He tried to barge her off but his meek frame was incapable. "I only want to help you!"

"I don't need your help!" She kept shouting. "You'll only make matters worse!"

"What's this even about? Did you murder someone else?" He snarled angrily.

"Roland!" her voice came shakily. His abhorrent statement seemed to get to her.

"I..." But he never had a chance to say something else

"Roland!" She screamed out, her voice trembling with a bitter sadness. Out of nowhere, the fury that that burned within her eyes was replaced with a shining wetness. "Just stop... Please..."

She was there, staring directly into his eyes. The only sound that Roland could hear was Ashlyn's loud, quivering breath. There was a sudden peacefulness to the whole situation and Roland immediately regretted going any further than he should've.

Ashlyn leaped off of him and paced slowly away from him, her body shivering noticeably. He felt horrible. Why did he push her like that? That wasn't like him...

The dragoness situated herself in the grass, turned away from him once more. She was trying to hide her emotions from him, he could tell. He wanted to apologise for he was deeply sorry about everything. But there was no way he could say anything more.

He was stupid. He just had to keep pushing her like that and it was all because of his desire to know the truth.

With a tremulous breath, he lowered himself to the ground and curled into a tight ball. Soon after, he fell into a very anxious sleep.

* * *

There it was again, that empty, bleak blackness that seemed to surround him endlessly. This time, however, there was only darkness beneath him. No burning city to fall into at all.

Roland felt he could swim around the emptiness of the void forever. There was nothing stopping him; no walls, no buildings. Absolutely nothing but a deep shade of black.

Despite the surrounding darkness, he could see himself like a light was being cast over him at all times. But when he gazed into the sky, there was emptiness. It started to infuriate him to no end.

Then there was a scream.

He peered around anxiously as he tried to search for the sudden intrusion of noise. It came from a yellow dragoness. A very familiar dragoness at that.

In fact, it was the very same quadruped who he'd watched burn to a cinder at his inability to assist her. It sent a cold, tingling feeling careening up his spine. When he gazed at her, the world seemed to be pulled together from completely nothing, stones flew this way and that to create a rigid path, earth was bent to form the ground. There she lay, undamaged but undone by nothing.

When he swam closer to the unconscious dragoness, the world kept being pushed together. The rock path spread out further to create enough room for Roland's footing. Suddenly, she woke up from her strange slumber.

"Roland..." she spoke, her voice a hushed whisper.

"Um, who are-" he tried to say but was cut off almost immediately.

"Ashlyn..." she stated quietly, her voice somewhat harsh.

Roland frowned, bewildered. He was about to open his maw to say something about the current situation he was in but never found the chance.

"Drevon..."

His mind was aching with a flaring pain. That word repeated on a loop inside his head. _Drevon_... _Drevon_... It didn't stop, for his sake.

An agonisingly loud screech of what sounded like metal broke out from behind him. With a shiver, he turned to find a bright light. Everything eventually came into focus.

What he was met with chilled him to the bone, a terrifying sight to behold. A gargantuan, armoured dragon floated before him. It was at least twenty times his size, far larger than a dragon should ever be. It's armour was thickly plated and even looked attached to its wearer. It was of deep, blood-curdling grey, almost black.

And without a second to spare, it yelled its deafening roar. A frightening, ear-piercing noise that almost made Roland want to sprint for his dear life. But he didn't. His feet weren't capable of that simple movement anymore.

"Drevon..." The yellowy dragoness whispered once more before fading into nothing.

He stared it down, shivering internally at what he might actually be gazing at. Even its eyes seem to pierce through his rapidly beating heart, the embodiment of what felt like hell itself. A bright, horrifying white that glowed powerfully within the blackness of the void.

All was quiet after that frightening yell. There was no sound, no movement at all. Everything felt stiff like someone had frozen the essence of time itself. It appeared to be waiting for him to run. Roland didn't comply as he stood his ground.

"Whelp..." they spoke up, their voice a deep boom. "I see you're brave..."

Roland gulped down what felt like his own throat. He couldn't say a single word to the terrifying sight before him.

"But your bravery comes with a price..." they added firmly, "as a great many people might say, bravery can lead to stupidity..."

Roland shuffled nervously in place. He was expecting the worst.

"And that stupidity can seal your fate," their voice echoed. "Death is the last thing you want, whelp."

Then, just as he thought everything was about to end for him, the world went white in a blinding flash. There was a horrible amount of agony.

Absolute darkness...


	4. Foreboding Thoughts

Foreboding Thoughts

His eyes shot open hastily right as the nightmarish dream came to a close. Roland's mind flared painfully as he struggled to remember what he'd just overheard. His name being whispered, her name...

Somebody called _Drevon_...

The memories came rushing back like a rapid. That yellow dragoness voicing the names, the world being crafted before his very eyes. A massive, metallic dragon towering ferociously over him.

As he tried to peer at his immediate surroundings, all he saw was a blur of green and blue; a swirl of bright, fluorescent colours. The world swam violently around him, his stomach churning viciously. He succeeded in getting on his feet but he loped around dizzily as he tried to regain any consciousness he might still retain.

The environment rolled slightly before coming into full focus. Roland was still in the campsite, the fire had since gone out and the sun was rising over the hills in the east. He stretched his fatigued bones before wandering around the site to wake himself up.

What he saw was shocking. Ashlyn hadn't even made an effort to move since last night. She was slumped over, positioned on her haunches and staring into the distant horizon. What was worse is that she looked weary, as if she hadn't gotten a single wink of sleep. Roland frowned before turning around.

Then the previous night flooded his already pained mind. He'd completely forgotten the aggressive fight he'd gotten into with Ashlyn. He couldn't believe what he'd did to her, the horrible words he'd spoken. And, again, it was for his desire to know the truth about everything. Roland was expecting honesty and he didn't receive that from her. But now?

He felt like an idiot for the way he'd behaved. What was he thinking? What was going through his mind when he'd voiced such words? Just as everything was starting to go uphill, he went and tossed it away as if it was trash.

He knew that he needed to make things right once more, but the courage wasn't there. How would she react? Would he end up ruining anything else they might still have? The questions weren't coming to an end.

A shaky breath escaped his muzzle as he directed his gaze back at Ashlyn. Still, she hadn't taken any notice of him and, again, hadn't even flinched. Not even a single inch of movement apart from the breathing that came unsteadily out of her maw.

Roland wanted to speak up but no words came from his open mouth. His throat dry, he turned around and sat down quietly.

"Are you ready?" her voice came nonchalantly only several seconds later, a shock to Roland. He didn't know. He wouldn't ever know. Instead of answering, he stared blankly into the smouldering ashes of the fire.

There was tense silence for a long time. Roland wasn't sure what to say to her. He felt that any word or phrase that would come out of his mouth would set her on edge.

He wasn't afraid of her... He was afraid for her, of what might be going through her mind. The things she'd stayed up an entire night to think about.

"Roland?" she spoke up once more, her tone still calm and relaxed. Well, at least she was trying to make it seem that way. Again, he hadn't the clearest idea of what he was.

He wasn't ready for anything.

There was no simple yes or no answer.

There was nothing.

He heard Ashlyn sigh as she shuffled around in her position, probably the first movement she'd made since last night. Not able to meet the eyes that he thought were pointing daggers at him, he looked down at his paws, observing himself. Flecked and smothered in mud; a reminder of the monster he truly was.

Where were these thoughts coming from? He wasn't a monster... That word reminded him of evil entities, like the Dark Master for instance. But, in spite of his own counterargument, he couldn't help but feel downright terrible about himself.

 _Stop being so distant_... A constant reminder of his own selfishness.

 _Did you murder somebody else_... The one thing he regretted saying the most. The phrase that sparked all the hatred in the first place.

At one point in his life, there had been nobody. But now, that had all changed. It wasn't just him anymore.

He didn't come first...

So, with a tremulous tone, two words rolled quietly off of his tongue.

"I'm sorry..."

By now, there had probably been too many apologies. But it felt different this time, too him anyway.

"You're... what?" Ashlyn questioned him. Once more, he felt her eyes piercing through his scales.

"I'm sorry," he said it once more, this time slightly louder.

There was no answer from Ashlyn, however. Only another sigh.

"I've... I've treated you horribly..." Roland continued, his breathing starting to falter. "You told me how you were treating me and, for a second, I thought everything you said was true..."

"But I think what I've said is worse. Getting you angry on purpose... it takes the cake." He chuckled emotionlessly.

"And only to fuel my own selfishness. I needed to know what you were thinking. I wanted to help, but, after a while, I only wanted to know." He felt his own eyes slowly blurring over with a sudden wetness.

"And I now know just how stupid I've been. I've been... thinking about it for a while..." he explained, his tone full of sorrow. "So, I-I'm sorry, Ashlyn..."

Roland glanced back at her quickly to find her own eyes staring directly into his. He hastily looked back.

"I... sorry..."

There was the sound of movement from behind him but he didn't stop to look at it.

"I've ruined everything. A-And at the worst time too." His voice started to choke up. "I'm horrible... I'm a horrible friend and I'm a terrible person..."

Still, he obtained no answer from the dragoness.

"Just... I-I deserve to be treated in the way you thought you were treating me..."

The sound of paws getting closer to him was obvious but he still didn't bother checking. He didn't think he would actually be able to meet her eyes again in a state like this.

"So... I-I'm..." He stuttered. At that moment, he felt a tear run quickly down his cheek.

And, in the most unexpected gesture, he felt something drape over his back and pull him in tight. The leathery webbing of a dragon's wing.

It was cold, like ice, but almost warming in a sense. A feeling that warmed his heart.

* * *

Roland kicked off into a steady, slow glide. The time for resting had long since past for a lengthy journey was ahead of him. Warfang was still very distant, a hazy spec on the skyline.

Now that he'd settled everything with Ashlyn, he felt much happier about the trip, albeit a little awkward. The plains felt just that little bit greener and for reasons he couldn't explain, more joyful. Maybe things were starting to look up?

The dragon didn't get ahead of himself, though. He'd thought that very same thing only to be confronted by a group of hooded bandits...

Who were they? Roland had never seen them before.

Clearing his mind of thoughts, he decided to look on at the plains sprawling before him. Apart from the lush grass that littered the ground, it was rather barren. A tree or two here, a small rock mound there, all spread remotely apart. Warfang was closer but still very far away. Now that he was soaring to his destination, another blur could be seen next to the dragon city. He recognised this as the out of commission dam Warfang once owned.

From the evidence he'd been able to gather from stories and lore, the dam had been turned to ruin by the destruction of a series of battles ensued by the Dark Master himself. A huge tear caused by the near-death of the world cut the structure in two. That, if he was remembering correctly, was almost five centuries ago and it was never repaired for the gaping crevice managed to slice through the dam and its contents. It wasn't not like the city needed it now, they supposedly had other efficient ways of obtaining water.

He decided to take a quick glance at Ashlyn, who looked drained of all energy.

"You look tired..." Roland stated, breaking the long silence between them.

"Yeah," she exclaimed with a yawn, "just a bit..."

"Do you want to rest?" he asked. "It's not like we have a time limit."

"No. I'm fine." Ashlyn looked back, trying to reassure him.

"Are you sure?" Roland questioned her once more.

Ashlyn narrowed her eyes slightly. "Yes."

He wanted to complain but decided against it. "Well, alright."

As the dull quietness started to settle in once more, Roland tried to ponder a new topic. He decided on a small compliment.

"Where did you learn to fight like that?" he asked out of the blue. She frowned before he elaborated. "I mean, back in that forest we... burnt down..."

"Oh, um..." A weak smile played at her muzzle. "Just training. Nothing too special."

"Better than me." He grinned back. "I can't hurt a fly."

She chuckled softly. "It's not all my skill..."

"What do you mean?" he asked, befuddled.

"Well..." She showed him her paw. "I guess you could say this is enchanted..."

Just below her middlemost claw, on her finger, was a golden ring. A blue gemstone that almost seemed to glow was embedded inside of it.

It was that very same ring he'd thought about thieving earlier.

"My mother gave that to me when I hatched." She drew her paw back, beginning to gaze at it. Roland couldn't help but do the same. "She said to take good care of it..."

"What does it do?" he asked, starting to see where the conversation was going.

Ashlyn glanced briefly at him before returning to the ring. "She said it would make me stronger..."

"You've proven that," he mumbled to himself.

"Don't remind me."

"Okay, okay..." He grinned meekly. Without anything left to say, he gave in to silence.

Several hours of gliding through the air later and the city seemed to be getting closer. Roland almost thought he saw a large tower but, when he turned away and looked back, it was gone. He frowned before continuing his sightseeing.

The usually smooth hills started to become rough and more densely packed as they expanded into a large, mountainous area. Ashlyn was able to recognise the location as Sunback Ridge, an expansive landmass that apparently sprung straight out of the ground. The presumption was that it was the Dark Master's doing.

The mounds of rock were large, rough and scattered unevenly. Inside of them seemed to lay a sprawling cave system, full of crystalline rocks dragons had called spirit gems. The faint green and dim red glows could be seen emanating from the dark caverns created by the mountains.

Uninterested by the surrounding areas, Roland gazed towards the city once more. He was astonished to find that it appeared to be much closer than when he'd checked only moments ago. The blur was at least two times the size and it seemed to be getting closer very quickly.

Roland realised it wasn't a city he was gazing at. He could spot the two leathery wings of what looked like a dragon soaring straight for them. He grinned at the sight of what could be a friendly face.

"Who's that?" Roland turned slightly towards Ashlyn, asking her the question.

"I don't know..." she answered, frowning at the sudden appearance.

The dragon only got closer. He was excited to meet someone else, hopefully a friendly. It wasn't everyday you met someone travelling the wilderness.

The indistinct shape only got nearer as time passed. Roland could almost make out its features. The first thing he noticed was the unusually hairy body they had.

It soon became apparent that it wasn't a dragon he was seeing. Roland had no idea what he was looking at.

Their wings were seated on their arms, two jagged, unnatural horns were atop their head and their body was covered in fur and skin. They were hunched over and strange thorns protruded out of their body at dangerous angles.

There was a deafening, shrill scream that came from the unknown entity. If Roland was any closer, he thought he might actually go deaf.

"Get down!" Ashlyn yelled before diving hastily towards the rocky ground. Without a moment of hesitation, he swiftly followed.

The creature rushed overhead and, with another shriek, shot after them. Roland only followed Ashlyn, who was diving into the nearest cave.

There was another screech, this time louder and closer. It rang painfully in his mind, over and over on a horrifying loop. He felt something scrape against the scales on his hind legs before he dashed into a small opening in the mountains.

He landed heavily, tripping on his own paws once more and falling face first into a red crystal. There was the slightest amount of agony before the shattered gemstone was absorbed into his scales. He quickly got up and ran, the aggressive creature clawing and screeching at the entrance, trying to get to him.

His path was lighted by the many crystals the caverns held and he eventually found Ashlyn who was trying to catch her breath.

"What was that... thing?" he asked nervously.

"Th-That's a dreadwing," she answered, still trying to find her breath. It surprised Roland because dreadwings had died out a long time ago.

"They don't exist anymore..."

"Have you seen the pictures?" Ashlyn inquired. "Large, hairy creatures that scream at their enemies. That description fits the thing we're dealing with.

"But why would they be back now?" Roland frowned. He didn't receive a clear answer but that was to be expected.

"That's beyond me. But something doesn't feel right."

"What do you mean?" he questioned her.

"Well..." She started to explain her reasoning. "First, there's hooded... things attacking us, unlike anything I've ever seen. Now dreadwings are coming back."

"What's next? Apes?" Roland smirked slightly.

"I wouldn't be surprised," Ashlyn responded, ignoring the joke, "just, be on your-

She was cut off by a powerful screech that echoed throughout the walls of the cavern, followed by a loud smashing sound that came from around the bend. It continued on a loop, getting harder and more rapid before Roland heard the noise of stone shattering under immense force.

"Run!" Ashlyn yelled before sprinting, almost flying, through the dimly lit cave system. He wasted no time, dashing after her to get away from the dreadwings that rounded the corner. Roland didn't know where he was going but he didn't care.

After rounding another bend and jumping a small crater in the stone floor, there was another shriek from the enemy, so powerful that it almost knocked him to the ground. The taloned legs it had could be heard stomping noisily across the ground, getting closer to him with each passing moment. Roland's legs weren't built for high-speed running and flight wasn't an option. The ceiling was covered in large stalagmites he had to start dodging and weaving through. His attacker, however, was simply smashing into them, causing them snap and shatter under force. There was no way he'd be able to barge through the rocks like the creature was.

Thus, it only managed to get closer and the screaming continued to get louder. He looked behind to find a talon careening into his legs to grab him. Not a moment too soon, he swiftly rolled out of the way. Unfortunately, he found another stalagmite waiting for him on the other end of the roll. His side scraped against the rough surface of the rock and his scales were grazed and torn. There was no real damage, however, and he continued his hasty getaway.

Roland felt his legs wobble as another blast of sound rang out from the brute. He stumbled down a small hill and seemingly rolled into a flight through a larger, more spherical cavern. There were no rocky thorns to be seen either and the walls were covered in spirit gems. There wasn't much time to think, however, as he quickly rolled under another swing of the dreadwing's claw.

Ashlyn was only just ahead and she stopped in her tracks immediately. Roland, who had no idea what she was doing, continued to run before he tripped on a small incline in the floor. He gazed behind to find that the dreadwing had completely stopped its pursuit and was now standing at the entrance to stop him from escaping.

When he got up and looked at the thing Ashlyn was staring at, he was shocked. There was another dreadwing blocking off her exit.

He hastily joined Ashlyn at her side and looked on at their snarling enemies with terror. There was no escape from the room he was in. There was nothing he could do.

Fortunately, the attackers didn't seem to be doing anything other than growling lowly. It was a strange sight for the dreadwing had been screeching and sprinting after him only moments earlier. Were they trying to look threatening? Roland was certainly scared.

Ashlyn was standing quite proudly, as if she was going to square off against them. It wasn't like they really had much of a choice.

At almost the same time, the two dreadwings started to near them. They came slowly at first and steadily increased their speed. Ashlyn stood her ground, ready for an attack. Roland was only ready to dodge the incoming damage.

With a deafening screech, they sprinted and leaped straight at the dragons. One quick roll later and Roland was out of the way in mere seconds. He glanced back to find Ashlyn missing and two dreadwings stunned from slamming into each other. He was slightly worried before he saw a glow of blue.

There was a huge explosion of ice and snow before the dreadwings were encased in a thick layer of ice, frozen and unmoving. Within moments of doing so, she drove herself into one of the creatures, horns first, with powerful bash. The dreadwing was sent careening across the cave and ended up slamming into the wall on the other side. She didn't stop there as she simply blasted the other with another wave of powerful magic. It met the same fate as the other, smashing into the stone wall, devoid of any life.

"We need to go!" Ashlyn panted, sprinting briskly through the tunnel on the other end. Roland didn't hesitate as he followed her through, awestruck by the feats of strength she seemed to be able to show everyday.

There was a brightness at the end of the tunnel, not the dim light of gemstones, but the warmth of sunlight. He started to sprint as quickly as his frame could muster, catching up to the already hasty dragoness in the process.

He burst out of the hole and swiftly took off into a glide. There was a loud screech from below to signify that the dreadwings were still alive and well but they weren't going to catch up to them anytime soon. The exit was too small for a large creature to fit through, Roland only just managed the tight squeeze.

Puffing and out of breath, Roland struggled to hold his flight but he was able to manage. Ashlyn was most likely worse off, however. He'd sat back and watched her deal with the immediate threat in seconds.

"Are you okay?" Roland asked between breaths.

"Fine..." Ashlyn spoke one word, her voice strained slightly.

No more words were spoken as they quickly set off towards the blurred dot on the horizon, sure that it wasn't a large, hairy creature that wanted nothing more than to kill them. He half expected to see another dreadwing but fortunately never caught a glimpse of another.

Several lucky hours of flying passed and, before he knew it, he was out of Sunback Ridge. The celestial moons were once again high in the sky, the stars were shimmering from above and a thick blanket of darkness was cast over the smoother, grassier plains. The old dam seemed to be much closer than the city, only minutes away from his position. Warfang was settled only just beyond that and he certainly was excited to get to the dragon city of legend.

"It's so close..." Roland stated quietly.

"Very..." she responded, hearing his quiet mutterings. "We should be there by tommorow."

"I hope so."

Unfortunately for this night, there were no trees and no debris so there wouldn't be a campfire. Maybe that was a good thing? They didn't really need unwanted attention, especially another beast that should've been extinct

It left him to wonder about the sudden appearance of the dreadwings. First there was that strange band of thugs and now this? Ashlyn was right about something peculiar happening. The situation didn't rest well on him.

Then there was the strange dream he'd experience. That name started ringing throughout his head once more. _Drevon_...

Who were they and why did he dream of him. Roland knew that dreams were just figments of the imagination but, when compared with the recent events, something didn't add up right. It seemed as if it was all happening on purpose, as if someone was causing all the problems thus far.

"I brought dinner... again..." Ashlyn said as she dropped another white rabbit at his feet. He'd never noticed her leave at all, too busy in his thoughts.

"Thanks... again..." Roland grinned happily before licking his maw. He glanced over at Ashlyn and was annoyed to see her without a meal again.

"You need to eat," he exclaimed firmly.

Ashlyn waved it off. "No, I'm fine..."

Roland didn't listen and slung the rabbit her way. "You shouldn't starve yourself, Ashlyn..."

"Roland..." She sighed.

"I'm not hungry, anyway," he said. "You deserve it more than me."

She hesitated before carving a leg off of the corpse, tossing the small cut to him. Catching it in his paw, he stared into it.

"You need to eat too." Ashlyn grinned weakly.

He glared jokingly in her direction, a small grin playing at his mouth. "Alright..."

After rapidly skinning and devouring the cut of meat, he decided to gaze into the sky and think. He thought back on the life he'd once lived, inside of Avalar and a petty thief. All of that had changed now that he was going to Warfang. But what would he do once he got there? Would he resume his old methods?

He had no idea. It was one of the only areas he was skilful in and he wasn't sure if he wanted that to be the case. Maybe he could find a job or go to the academy? Either of those options seemed pretty slim, however, considering his lack of any skill or element. Nobody cared about a no-breath.

As much as he hated to admit it, he somewhat enjoyed stealing items from others despite knowing how wrong it was. However, he was going to try to make sure he didn't have to succumb to that fate again. Roland wanted to do something a little more significant with his life, and he was going to try his hardest no matter how difficult the task might end up being.

For now, his thoughts came to a close as his mind felt suddenly empty. With nothing to do, he glanced over at Ashlyn. Just like last night, she was positioned on her haunches and staring into the distance. He frowned before deciding to tread towards her.

"What's on your mind?" he questioned.

Ashlyn turned her gaze to him. She looked absolutely terrible, tired and miserable. "Nothing really. Just taking a watch."

"Do you want me to take over?" he asked, concerned.

"No." She shook her head. "I've got it."

"C'mon, Ash," he urged her, "you've stayed awake all day."

"As I said, I've got it," she persisted, trying to hide her exhaustion. Roland wasn't so easily fooled but he came to a different decision.

"Then I'm joining you." He grinned before immediately parking himself next to her. She groaned noisily which got a quiet chuckle out of him.

For a few moments, he stared with her into the darkness. If he looked hard enough, he could see Sunback Ridge poking over a few stumpy trees. There were some black shadows that could be seen flying in the moonlight, probably more of those rabid dreadwing. Fortunately, they appeared to be flying in aimless circles, patrolling the mountainous territory they'd claimed for themselves.

He turned back to Ashlyn who was staring tiredly at the sight before them.

"You look so tired..." Roland said.

"Just a little." She started to lower herself to the ground. "I think I used too much ice back there."

"Well, you did freeze them solid," he agreed.

Ashlyn yawned loudly. "It'll come back to me. I should've taken some of those spirit gems."

"There wasn't enough time for that."

"I guess you're right..."

"I'm glad you agree with me on something." He chortled which got a glare out of the weary dragoness.

"Do you think you're funny?" she asked jestingly.

"Yep." His grin widened. "Always have been, always will be."

She rolled her eyes. "Because you really aren't..."

His smile turned into a jokingly depressed scowl. "You don't think I'm funny?"

"Never have been, never will be." She grinned as she mocked him. Roland scoffed.

"You're one to talk." He smirked once more. "I've never heard you crack a joke..."

"I don't do jokes." She explained before smiling broadly. "Only insults."

"You must be a nice person." Roland stated sarcastically.

"I guess so."

Minutes of doing nothing went past. His mind was blank of any thought and his mouth spoke no more words. But he did feel kind of happy just sitting there, staring into the blackness, as if there wasn't a care in the world. That obviously wasn't true but he was enjoying the peacefulness while it lasted.

After a few more moments, he spoke up again. "Ashlyn?"

He got no answer from her. He frowned before looking down at her laying form to find she'd started slumbering right next to him. Grinning, he only watched on into the night.

"Good night..." he muttered with a slight smirk

Roland would've waken her later but he thought better of it. He could stay awake an entire night. He was sure of it.

There were a few low rustles; the grass swaying in the light breeze and tiny animals moving through the lush foliage. Otherwise, everything was at peace.

A shriek came from the distance which managed to frighten him. He checked the ridge in the distance to only see another dreadwing swooping down on what was probably prey. Ashlyn stirred slightly at the intrusion of noise but didn't open her eyes, which he was thankful for.

It was in that position that he sat, unmoving and gazing into the darkness of night, trying his best to keep his eyes peeled for danger. Despite the somewhat peaceful atmosphere, he felt one of the creatures would just swoop down and attack him. It sent a shiver up his back; the thought of becoming prey to a hairy behemoth.

Eventually, the hours started to weigh down on him. Roland's eyes were heavy and full of exhaustion. He wasn't sure if he'd make it an entire night but he refrained from waking Ashlyn to do the job. Despite his own need for a good rest, she needed it more.

He could stay awake. He had to. Sleep was the last thing he wanted right now...

* * *

The red dragon awoke, startled that he'd actually slumbered. He was shocked, more so, that the dragoness was still dozing right next to him. His face warming, he lifted himself off the grass and brushed the dirt of his chest.

He was hoping Ashlyn hadn't noticed, even if she was still sleeping, for she seemed to be capable of anything. With a low yawn, he stretched his ligaments and slowly paced off, slightly guilty for not being able to keep watch.

Now that the sun had risen, the old dam could be seen clearer. A huge mound of ruined stone positioned on a river. The flight only looked half an hour away at most, maybe less. Then he gazed over at Warfang, a more distant target but definitely very close.

He had it all mapped out in his mind. They could fly over the dam on the way past and get to the city before sundown. Roland was extremely excited to almost be at an area where they would be safe and not constantly on the run from dangerous enemies.

"Are you ready to go?" Ashlyn suddenly spoke. He spun around to see her wiping the sleep out of her eyes.

"I guess."

"Not far to go now... only a few more hours."

With all said and done, she took to the skies briskly. He stretched once more before trailing closely behind her.

After only a few lengthy moments of flight, they were starting to reach the devastated dam . The situation was worse than Roland once thought; a huge scar in the world, outlining the damage caused, and not even the barest remnants of a river. All that was left of what was probably a mighty structure was a mound of cracked stone.

"That's kind of depressing..." Roland exclaimed. He received a low grunt as an answer which he rolled his eyes at. "Lighten up a little."

Ashlyn sighed silently. "It looks a little saddening, I know." She glanced back at him.

"Looks like a fun place to explore." He joked.

She narrowed her eyes before turning away. "Right..."

"Oh, c'mon..." He started to grin. "Have a little fun, at least."

Ashlyn shook her head in irritation. "Fun is the last thing I'll be having out here."

His smirk only broadened. "Emotionless..." He jested. The dragoness glared but didn't usher another word. Slowly shaking his head, he sped himself up so he was beside the dragoness.

Unforeseen by him, she moved away so he was behind her once more. The grin on his face started to reappear as he repeated his actions, this time moving slightly in front of her. He thought he saw a small smile appear on Ashlyn's muzzle before he was overtaken once more.

"Are you trying to race me?" he asked, chuckling a little as he did so.

"No..." the dragoness replied casually. He moved up to her position again only to find he was being forced back further.

"Stop it," he commanded her.

"Oh, c'mon..." she mocked his own words, "have a little fun, at least."

"Fine, that's it." He chortled heartily before boosting forward in a sudden burst of speed. He directed himself downwards, aiming directly for Warfang which was only minutes away.

The wind brushing through Roland's red scales, he gazed back at Ashlyn to see her gaining on him, a small, rather devious grin on her face. He huffed before trying to move more swiftly.

The breeze dragged him with it, yet she was still catching up to him at what looked like a leisurely pace, that tiny smirk growing ever so slightly. Determined to stay unbeaten, he pushed himself as hard as he could.

Ashlyn went zooming past him, much to his shock. How did she move so fast? The pace at which she seemed to burst into was inconceivable to him.

Despite being guaranteed what looked like a loss, he kept forcing himself as vigorously as his wings could muster. Low and behold he was staring to gain on the dragoness once more. As irritated as it made him, he couldn't help but think she was only slowing to rub it in his face.

Once he started to catch her, he could see the city in full detail. Hundreds of beautifully built spires protruded from the top of a huge, defensive wall, perhaps thousands of buildings below it. It was more magnificent than what he once thought. As gorgeous as the city was, however, there were other tasks at hand.

But no matter how hard he tried, his efforts were to no avail. There was no way he could get past Ashlyn. All he could do was keep up which was arduous in itself.

His breathing coming in quick, ragged gasps, exhausted from the strenuous flight, he chose the only sensible option.

Roland's brisk flying slowed to what felt like a crawl. He spread his wings out, descending in an unhurried glide. Ashlyn turned and chuckled at him, coming to an immediate halt in the sky.

"I thought you were trying to have fun," she yelled out to him, that smile still present on her face.

"Too... tired..." he mumbled exhaustedly. Rolling her eyes, she soared towards him.

"Warfang isn't too far," she exclaimed before pointing in the settlement's direction. It was surprisingly close, maybe only a quarter of an hour's journey away.

Roland's spirits were lifted when he glanced over, excited to finally get to the legendary city. He couldn't wait to be inside of its walls, safe and able to do what he wished once more. The possibilities were uncountable.

It was almost too much to take in. What awaited him in Warfang? Where was he going to go? What was he going to do?

He could only wonder.


	5. Friendly Faces

Friendly Faces

Roland couldn't help but stare at Warfang's dazzling beauty. He positioned himself directly at the open gates to the city, gazing on at the huge spires and magnificent buildings splayed evenly across the streets. There were large crowds of dragons and little pudgy creatures – he realised they were moles only a second later – doing what appeared to be the regular business; shopping, jobs... the usual.

"Yeah, it's pretty amazing..." Ashlyn muttered, amused at his awestruck gawking.

He didn't come up with a reply, instead treading through the front gates and placing a foot on the stone pavement. It was constructed of a smooth, pale sandstone, almost like polished marble. He'd never felt something so luxurious under his paws in the entirety of his life.

Taking more sluggish steps, he took in every gorgeous feature of the city. The way the streets were laid out, the designs on the buildings. Even the small, arched windows, such a minute detail, were unbelievably perfect. The efforts the moles went to were astonishing for a city of this calibre.

When he peered at the huge crowds of dragons and moles, he got some really strange frowns and heard a few incomprehensible whispers. He looked at his own body to see if that was the problem and, low and behold, he was smothered in dirt and dry flecks of deep crimson. But even if that was an issue, they were also probably wondering why a child was wandering around the entrance to Warfang at this time of day. He felt his face warming before turning to an equally as dirty Ashlyn.

"I think we need a bath..." He whispered sheepishly. She immediately looked down on herself and was rather shocked at her appalling appearance.

"Y-Yeah..." She agreed embarrassedly. "There should be a bath house somewhere around here..."

"Lead the way." He grinned slightly.

"Real funny, Roland..." Ashlyn glared daggers at him. "Real funny."

She slowly took the lead position and he followed without another word. The further he walked, the more peculiar glances and grimaces he obtaindd. Trying to ignore the irritation he was receiving, he swiftly paced up beside the dragoness he was following. She didn't do much besides passing him a glance.

"Maybe we should ask around?" He suggested. After all, it wasn't like they were going to find much by just wandering aimlessly. However, Ashlyn had other ideas.

"No." She stated rather sharply. Softening her tone, she spoke again. "I think I have a fair idea of where to look, though."

"Well... okay." Roland sighed a little. He wasn't in a very approachable shape right now, anyway.

They rounded a corner and he was still unsure of where they might be going. The sights made up for it, however. Several high towers rose gracefully out of the ground, joined by groups of smaller, homely buildings. There was even a fountain he enjoyed the sight of. So far, just about everything in Warfang was perfect. The citizens were an exception but he was sure that would change sooner or later.

With a slight smile on his face, he continued treading the streets with Ashlyn. He was joyful for her company. In fact, he probably wouldn't have the clearest idea of what to do if he was by himself. Roland hated to admit it but it was definitely the truth.

As he continued walking, the buildings only became more plentiful. He entered a large square of some kind that was lined with shops and other services.

"I think that's it." Ashlyn stopped to point at a humongous building. He quickly nodded as she continued her pacing, moving more briskly than before.

There was a short but wide stairway that led up to a windowless structure and a set of four stone pillars supported a triangular roof. The doorway was arched and big, obviously to fit an adult dragon. When Roland wandered further towards it, a pleasing scent was released from within its walls, almost like fresh pine. He could immediately tell that this was the building they were looking for.

A couple of eyes settled on him as he treaded up the steps. Deciding to ignore the unnerving feeling of being watched, he stepped past the columns and through the large doorway.

The two dragons were greeted with a surprisingly small room. It appeared to be the reception for the establishment. An oak countertop was in the centre of two doors that both led to different places. Behind the desk was a bluish dragoness.

"Hello!" She called happily to them. "What can I do-"

The dragoness looked at them and was immediately appalled. Roland didn't blame her.

"You two kids are a mess..." She exclaimed. "What happened?"

"Um..." Ashlyn tried to lie her way out of the situation. "We... played in the... mud..."

"I-Is that blood?" She asked, starting to worry. Roland wasn't sure if she was nervous for them or anxious because of them. He decided to speak up, a little irritated himself.

"We've been through a lot, okay?"

"I, um..." The dragoness was at a loss for words.

"We're dirty and tired..." Ashlyn continued for him. "All we need is a wash..."

She sighed tremulously before answering. "Fine. But you're explaining yourselves when you get out..."

"I guess that's fair..." He responded untruthfully. It wasn't like he was actually going to do an entire recount of their trek to Warfang.

"Boys on the left, girls on the right." She said, still nervous. He thanked her silently.

"I'll see you soon." Ashlyn muttered before pacing over to the door on the right.

Without further ado, he entered a hallway. It was short, cozy and he could still smell that pine wood scent. There was also a mirror big enough to see his own scummy appearance in. Other than that, it was bland and uninteresting.

The main attraction, however, was the gargantuan pool he could spot on the other side of the open door. The room was heated and rather steamy; he could feel the slightest amount of sweat trickle between his scales. The only thing he found a little awkward was that the pool was filled with all manner of male dragons. Roland didn't fancy bathing with someone else but there was enough space for him to sit on his lonesome.

He strolled through the door nonchalantly, trying to keep a straight face when he caught a glimpse of the dragons peering somewhat suspiciously at him. He winced internally before finding a spot that wasn't covered in dragons. Taking a step into the bathwater, he felt his leg relax almost immediately. Roland didn't hesitate as he took another pace, almost falling into the heated pool.

His body started to unstiffen and his mind went completely blank. The water swirled around his dirty form, washing away any trace of the muck previously smeared all over his scales. That fresh scent filled his nostrils as he rested his back against the wall of the pool.

For the first time in a while, he felt truly relaxed. The journeying had come to a halt and he was thankful for that. There was one question that settled in his mind at that moment.

What would he do now? He'd pondered it many times before but never been able to come to an answer. He was sure Ashlyn had ideas but he didn't know what he wanted to do. Maybe he could just follow her around or help her in some way? Perhaps he could find a school, even as little as that chance was? The options were too plentiful. For now, he allowed himself a break, even if he wasn't sure he really deserved such luxurious treatment.

Roland spent a long time in the water, just sitting there and casually relaxing. He occasionally opened his eyes to check if anyone was gazing at him and, much to his fortune, couldn't see a single eye on him. The vast majority of dragons were relaxing just like him.

Even if he was enjoying the quiet atmosphere, he had to get out at some point. Roland reluctantly lifted himself from the soft current and shook the water from his body.

He started to walk towards the door and didn't receive a single glance. He came to the conclusion that it was the dirt that made others gaze at him as if he was street trash.

Roland exited the humongous poolroom and made his way through the hallway once more. He decided to check his appearance in the mirror and was kind of impressed. His red scales were glistening shinily with all the dirt removed. But he noticed something strange on his chest

He turned slightly to find a small, pink scar that had cut its way through his torso, directly in front of his heart. The red dragon winced a little at the sight of something so weird. He wasn't sure where it came from but when he inspected it closer, it looked like the mark of someone's claw. Of course, there wasn't a legitimate way to tell.

Frowning, he decided it would best to ignore it. It wasn't painful and it most certainly wasn't fatal. A mere scratch wasn't going to hinder him at all.

He entered the reception and saw Ashlyn waiting impatiently for him.

"Wow, Roland." She exclaimed, her voice showing she was slightly annoyed. "I didn't think a bath would take so long..."

"What?" He smirked weakly. "I didn't take that long."

"I've been waiting thirty minutes..."

He let out a single, almost inaudible cough. All he received was a glare.

Eventually, the receptionist broke the silence. "Are you going to explain yourselves?"

Ashlyn looked up at her and rolled her eyes. "Fat chance of that happening. I'm going..." And with that, she made a run for it.

Roland shrugged and sprinted before the dragoness had time to say 'stop'. He could hear her calling from behind him but that was of no matter. He swiftly caught up with Ashlyn who had stopped running altogether.

"Do you think she'll come after us?" He asked, a little breathless.

"I don't think so." Ashlyn explained. "She probably has better things to do."

They started to continue their walk further into the city. Now that they didn't look like a couple of lowlife criminals – Roland didn't want to admit the truth behind that statement – the bizarre looks they'd been presented with previously had totally vanished. He found himself able to enjoy the vast streets of Warfang even more than before now that the idea of being watched was gone.

After several moments of plodding along seemingly random pathways, Roland couldn't help but wonder where they were going. Where was Ashlyn leading him? What were her plans? He decided to voice these concerns.

"Where are we going?"

Ashlyn stopped walking at once. "I... don't really know..."

Roland almost put a paw to his forehead. "We've been walking this way for no reason?"

"Do you have any better ideas?" She retorted.

"Um..." He tried to search for a sound suggestion. "Why don't we... find a room to stay in?"

He grinned weakly at the idea. They could go to sleep in comfort, maybe get a meal... It sounded good to him but Ashlyn managed a response.

"How do you expect to do that without any money?"

This stumped him greatly. It wasn't like he could go buy something without the currency to do so, including a room. He actually remembered thieving a purse full of gems earlier but that obviously wasn't on him. Of course, he'd forgotten to grab it on the way out of an unfair trial.

"Uh..." He tried to ponder his options. "Well... I don't have a clue."

"You're a thief, aren't you?" She questioned him, lowering her voice, to which he nodded, already knowing what she was trying to suggest. "Why don't you steal some gems? In this crowd it shouldn't be too difficult..."

"I... I don't really want to steal anymore." He explained, trying to keep his voice quiet and still unsure of what he desired to do in their situation.

"Do you want to sleep on the streets?" Ashlyn said firmly.

"Well... no..."

"Then what choice do we have?" She asked.

The truth was rather obvious. There wasn't another choice. He could either resume his old, petty ways or receive a horribly embarrassing bed. After moments of thinking about their problem, he decided the former was the best option.

"Well, I can't right now. The sun's still up."

"You can't be a their because... the sun's up?" She asked, confused as to his reasoning.

"Don't question it..." He remarked a little sheepishly. "I just can't at daytime..."

"I guess we're waiting until nightfall then." She sighed, not taking a moment to argue.

Roland peered into the sky in search of the sun. He was glad to see it descending. At least he could get the dirty work over with quickly.

"What do we do in the meantime?" He asked a few seconds later.

"There's not much we can do..."

And with that, the conversation came to a close. Roland moved over to somewhere shady and waited for the opportune moment to strike.

Waiting was all he could do...

* * *

The celestial moons were high in the sky once more, their brightness licking at the pavement dimly. Roland could only just see himself in the shaded area he had positioned himself in, let alone Ashlyn. However, the large street they faced was within his vision. In other words, he could see others but they wouldn't be able to gaze at him.

"Are we just going to wait around?" She whispered to him. He sighed in response.

"Until someone walks around. A city as populated as this one is bound to have a few night owls."

Despite his statement, the street was empty. There wasn't a single soul walking the city at all. Roland exhaled noisily once again.

"I'm bored..." Ashlyn stated, a little strange coming out of her maw.

"Well..." He responded. "It's only going to get worse."

Minutes of waiting soon turned into an hour of absolute boredom. Roland felt his eyes closing when Ashlyn tapped him on the shoulder. He shook his head, rubbing the lack of sleep from his eyes.

"What is it?"

"Over there." She muttered quietly, pointing directly in front of her. Right there, at the most unexpected moment, he saw a dragon that looked almost his age padding up the pavement. They looked brown in the darkness and a satchel of some kind was at their side.

The perfect target...

"Stay back." He said silently before grinning at her. "Let the master do the work."

Without another peep, he took off swiftly, his paws making no noise against the smooth stone on the ground. The target was still slowly making their way across the pavement so reaching them was no real issue. He was only a couple of metres behind them when the unexpected happened.

They turned around.

Quickly, he dived into an alleyway, somersaulting clumsily on the way down. His heart beating powerfully inside his head, he took cover in the shadows his spot gave him. It was almost miraculous that the target didn't seem to see him at all. After a suspicious glance, they continued their walking, albeit a little faster. Roland suspected that they thought someone was following them. These weren't fantastic conditions but, in the end, wouldn't make much of a difference. He was going to obtain that satchel, even if it was the last thing he did.

Well, maybe he wasn't that serious...

Roland moved once they'd gained some distance. This time he was extra careful, not making any movement that would alert the brown dragon to his presence. He swerved around a corner the target took, keeping notes on how the way he moved and the direction he proceeded in. If Roland was going to take a wild guess, Ashlyn was probably starting to get impatient...

As he thought this, he almost chuckled. Roland immediately remembered the situation at hand and shut his mouth. Sweat starting to line his forehead, he continued down the moonlit streets of Warfang.

He passed several of those grand spires the city was known for, still amazed at their appearance in spite of the darkness. The issue at hand was more important, however, and he almost slapped himself for getting distracted. The dragon he was sluggishly chasing was getting closer by the second, the wallet swaying temptingly in his eyes.

Fortunately for him, his target didn't turn this time. A slight grin started to play at his muzzle as he readied himself to grab the wallet. His eyes were only on the object he came for and, soon enough, he laid a claw on it.

Unforeseen by him, the brown dragon immediately swirled around on the spot and delivered a mighty punch to his snout. Roland was knocked back several metres as he tried to retain his balance, his vision starting to swirl. The pain instantly kicked; he wasn't able to tell if anything had been broken by such a powerful attack.

Roland fell on to his back, trying to massage the agony he'd received. His blurred target walked up to him, an angry glint in their hazy eyes.

"Who do you think you are," they hissed venomously. "trying to steal from me?"

As strange as it might've been, he found the voice familiar, but he wasn't capable of a response. The pain was just too much. Roland wasn't sure how he was still conscious after such a blow.

"I said, who do you think you are?" They yelled angrily at him before pacing up in front of him. The enemy Roland had seemingly made on the spot leaped on top of him, only adding to the agony. They put their face only inches away from his...

And he immediately recognised the dull, brown eyes he was staring into. He was astonished to see him here, an almost impossible circumstance. And yet, here he was.

With a great deal of effort, he choked out a name.

"S-Seth?"

Seth stared bewildered at him. "Roland?"

They were left gazing into each other's eyes for a few moments. Seth was frowning, absolutely confused because of what he was looking at. The brown dragon was about to say something else but someone beat him before he could let out a single phrase.

The flat of a hazy tail blade slammed down on Seth's cranium. It was unbelievably powerful; Roland could feel it reverberate throughout his body. With a low groan, Seth fell down unconscious on top of him.

Roland immediately pushed the brown dragon off and got up, peering at the events of a would-be theft; the unconscious body of a familiar. He then turned his eyes to the thing that'd just _saved_ him.

Ashlyn was standing there, her eyes narrowed. "I thought you were a master?" She smirked slightly.

"I... uh..." Roland was confused. Everything had happened so quickly. "My head hurts..." He muttered.

"Well, you were just punched in the face..." She stated. Roland rolled his eyes and put a paw to his snout. He wasn't too shocked to find a small amount of blood seeping out of his left nostril.

After his vision started coming back into focus, he looked back down at the motionless form of Seth. Ashlyn spoke up again.

"I never thought I'd see him again..." Roland was moderately befuddled by her statement.

"You know Seth?" He questioned, tilting his head rightward.

"Before we left Avalar," she started to explain, "when you were trying to steal the orb, we had an agreement. I would get in, fulfil my task of killing..." She suddenly stopped. Roland coughed softly.

"Um..." She looked down at the pavement before continuing rather briskly. "He would send someone in to take the artefact. It was all perfectly laid out."

"And... I think you know the rest..." She finished half-heartedly.

"What are we going to do about him?" He asked her. She huffed quietly.

"I'm going to get some answers out of him..."

He raised a brow. "Answers?"

"You'll see..." A grin played at her muzzle. "Can you lift him?"

"Um... Okay..." He answered, confused as to her reasoning. Roland hauled Seth onto his back with a bit of difficulty. He was rather heavy and his scales itched against Roland's. The red dragon could deal with it, though.

He followed the dragoness for quite some time, weaving between structures and trying to stay on the beaten path. Now that he'd started walking around Warfang, he realised just how dark the city was. It was almost forbidding in a sense, unlike the warm and welcoming settlement he'd thought it once was. Roland generally enjoyed the darkness, finding solace in its cold embrace. But now he felt anxious striding around such a large mass of looming spires. The shadows the structures created were large and added to the fright he was feeling.

But soon, the spires started to disappear. They were replaced by rundown buildings all closely linked together, as if they were chains. If he was going to take a guess, this was probably the poorer part of Warfang – a slum.

Ashlyn seemed to pick something up from the ground at that moment; a thick, fibre rope. What she was planning to do with it was unknown to him.

The dragoness found a shoddy looking building that was a part of the closely linked buildings. She immediately chose it, not even taking the time to knock. Fortunately, there was nobody inside. He didn't know anyone who would enjoy living in a house like this. Even his old sewer pipe was better than this piece of garbage...

The small shack they'd taken for themselves was unkempt. It had one little, empty room apart from a peculiar hook that jutted out of the wall. It was a rusty brown and was flecked with tiniest tinge of red. The sight of such a decrepit object was unsettling, especially in this poor block of structures. Roland could just imagine someone driving the sharp hook through a dragon...

He almost gagged when he thought of that. No, that red had to be from something else... Maybe it was just a contrast to browns that lined its surface?

"Can you put him up against the wall?" Ashlyn suddenly asked, breaking his train of thoughts. "Under that... thing..."

Roland was befuddled but did as commanded. He propped the weighty dragon against the wall, glad to have the heaviness off of his shoulders. Stretching his aching back and wings, he sat himself against the rightward wall.

He was a little surprised when Ashlyn started winding the rope around the unconscious dragon. She finished pretty quickly, tying the cord around the hook protruding from the wall so he wouldn't be able to move whatsoever.

"That should do it..." She said more so to herself than him. He responded anyway.

"Got enough rope there?" He grinned weakly at the way he was wrapped up. It almost as tight as a constrictor would kill its prey.

"You can never have enough rope..." She jested back. After a few quiet minutes flew by, Roland spoke up to break the silence.

"So..." Roland exclaimed. "What's all this for?"

"I just need a few answers..." She stated. "You'll see..."

"You said that before..."

"I'd rather not go through the list of things I want to say then have to do it all over again." She explained, boredom crossing her expression.

"Well... Alright..."

Fortunately for them, Seth started to stir not long after Roland ended their small conversation. Ashlyn let out a low, unsteady breath, looking like she was trying to prepare herself for something. Roland was about to ask her if there was a problem when the brown dragon partially opened his eyes and let out a pained groan.

"Ugh..." Seth tried to regain his consciousness. "Where am-"

He instantly cut himself off when he noticed the ropes coiled around his form. Seth started to struggle in his bonds but there was no way he was getting out of the tight grip they held him in. Soon enough, he turned his gaze upwards and realised Ashlyn was staring at him.

"What? You?" He started angrily. "What are you doing? Untie-"

She motioned from him to stay silent. "You have some explaining to do, Seth..."

"Explaining?" He questioned her, narrowing his eyes irately. "I don't think I need to explain anything to you, murderer..."

Ashlyn lost her calm tone at the name. "Like how you got me exiled..." She snarled.

"How I got you exiled?" He frowned. "I can assure you, none of that was _my_ fault..."

"Don't even try lying to me, Seth." She glared at him. "This is all your fault. If it wasn't for you, then I'd still be in Avalar..."

"Stop being so ridiculous..." Seth shook his head, a little angry. He tried to get closer to the dragoness despite his captivity. "I wouldn't waste my time getting rid of you."

Ashlyn started to near the imprisoned dragon himself, losing her composure. Roland was only watching the argument brew into something worse with each passing second.

"You're of no threat to me..." He growled, continuing. "You never were. Even if you are an assassin, you're a _sorry excuse_ for one."

Ashlyn clenched a paw tightly. "I'm no threat to you, huh?" She speedily padded up to him and stared directly into his brown eyes. "I could end you..."

Roland was shocked at the bombshell she seemed to drop right there. He thought she wanted answers and now she was giving him a death threat. He ended up reluctantly shrugging it off as a way to get the answers she wished for.

Surprisingly enough, Seth didn't show any signs of fear. "Why don't you do it then?" He snarled at her.

She growled hostilely. "You're an idiot, you know that?"

Roland couldn't stand much more of this constant bickering. It really was starting to get on his nerves.

"Guys..." He spoke up. Unfortunately, amongst the racket the two dragons were making, his voice was inaudible.

"You don't have the guts to kill anyone else..." Seth kept his anger rolling. "Do you, murderer?"

"That depends..." Suddenly, Ashlyn put a sharp claw right to his throat. "Do you want to die?"

Seth didn't show any signs of backing down, as if he didn't believe Ashlyn would try to maim him. Roland found it almost frightening for someone to have so much bravery in a situation like this. Or was that stupidity? He couldn't tell...

"Do you want to be kicked out of another city, murderer?" He retorted with his own question.

"As if they would find me..."

"In a city as populated as this? In this part of the city, as well?" He persisted. Ashlyn appeared to be running out of her own answers. "If anything, you're the idiot."

"I bet I could find a way." She responded, irritated by the mound of questions and insults he kept throwing her way.

"But you couldn't get out of the citadel back in Avalar..." The dragoness was a little shocked by the remark he gave. At this point, Roland was starting to lose his calm. He was about to go and halt the quarrelling but something stopped him from moving. He had to admit, he wanted to see how it would resolve.

"You call yourself an assassin and you can't even get out of the building." Seth exclaimed. "The citadel had the _easiest_ escape route and you're saying you can get out of Warfang? Don't make me laugh..."

Ashlyn had lost her temper long ago but now she was on the verge of doing something unspeakable. "I swear to the Ancestors, Seth..."

"You can't call yourself an assassin..."

"I don't want to call myself an assassin!" She yelled out. "Do you think I really want to be a killer? You have no idea how it feels..."

Seth grinned weakly before ignoring what she said. "You're still a murderer. That's all that matters to you... You don't care about anyone..."

Roland hated Seth's unusual logic, like he was purposefully trying to anger her. He was sure he was succeeding because Ashlyn looked as if she was about to do the unthinkable to another dragon.

Ashlyn let out a rather tremulous breath. "You don't understand..."

"I think I d-"

"No you don't!" She roared, infuriated. "You could never understand!"

"If you didn't want to be a killer, why did you kill someone?" He ignored her previous statements. "It's not like you had to..."

"I didn't have a choice!" She went on, gripping Seth's exposed neck. He didn't show any indication of pain but his voice was slightly strained.

"Lies... I know who you are, Ashlyn." Her name being spoken shocked her a little. "It's not like you to have someone choose for you..."

"It was out of my power!" She started to breathe rather heavily. Roland didn't know how to stop this. In truth, he was afraid she'd scream at him for interrupting her.

"Still lying... That's all you do, right?" Seth continued to infuriate her. "You're lying to me, you probably lied to him," he said, pointing to Roland. "You lied to your family... Everyone!"

"You disgust me..." He kept the insults going. It was really ticking Roland off; to see Ashlyn put down every single time he said something. In fact, she appeared to be a little depressed. "I don't even know how you live with yourself..."

"Shut up..." She said.

"Oh well... It's not like you can lie to your family. They're dead..."

Ashlyn was panting furiously. "Shut up." She said again, this time more forceful in her tone. However, the next phrase that came out of Seth's mouth was horrible. So, so horrible...

"How do you live knowing you killed them?"

"I said, shut up!" She screamed out at him, her rage clearly evident. Roland put a paw over his mouth as he watched the pain Ashlyn unleashed upon Seth.

Ashlyn drew her paw away from his neck. Rage burning inside of her, she struck Seth's left eye with a powerful swing, causing him to cry out in agony. She made sure to leave several deep gashes where the organ was.

Roland's mouth gaped, bewildered by the events he'd just observed. The dragoness stormed briskly and furiously out of the shack and Seth managed to fit a paw through the tight coils around him to grasp his damaged eye. He didn't know what to do, too scared to even think anything. It'd all happened so fast...

He gazed over at the tied up form of Seth, who'd apparently lost his courage from such a fearsome strike. Tears were pouring forth from his eyes and his breathing came in terribly shaky heaps. The teardrops in his left were stained red, looking almost as if he was crying the crimson. Roland could only imagine the pain he must be feeling. He caught a quick, pained glance from him before he turned his eyes to the exit.

Ashlyn wasn't too far from the rundown building they were in, only at the next structure a few metres away. She was turned away from the damage she'd caused, sorrowful and full of fury. Roland could only begin to wonder how she must be feeling.

He had a simple yet rather complex decision to make. Who would he choose to go after? Seth needed serious medical attention and Ashlyn required some form of emotional assistance...

As much as he wanted to assist the dragon who was tied up, he honestly thought the flaring pain he'd received was well-deserved. After all the words he'd spoken – everything that'd came out of his disgusting maw – it wasn't like he was justified any kind of aid. Plus, Roland had quite the grudge against him already.

So, almost guiltily, he walked out of the door. He heard Seth call quaveringly after him but he ignored it as best as he could.

He thought about what he might be able to say to make her feel better about the dilemma they'd been thrust into. And now that he was probably going to be stuck helping Seth later on, he felt a little hysterical. This night wasn't going in the way he wanted it to... In fact, most days weren't going his way.

Ashlyn was frighteningly quiet but, despite her silence, she was shivering slightly. Her quivering form was a little strange for him to see. She was usually calm and – even if she wasn't going to admit it – could lose her temper on a whim. But this time, she appeared to be scared...

"H-Hey..." He stated quietly. Ashlyn didn't turn to look back at him but replied in an unsteady tone.

"I need time to myself, Roland..."

He was taken aback but found himself continuing. "Ash..."

"Please..."

Roland didn't think persisting was the best idea so he left her to her own devices. But what now? Seth was still wounded and Ashlyn hadn't received the help she needed.

With a low sigh, he walked back into the shack. His only choice right now was to somehow mend Seth's damage. How he would do that was beyond him...

However, Roland was sure he could find a way... He _had_ too.

It wasn't like he had much of a choice...

* * *

 **Five chapters in and my chapters are always full of too much sadness and action. Next one should be a little more subtle, so yay!**

 **Anyway, thanks to those that are reading. It means a lot to me, even if you aren't reviewing...**


	6. Old Maiden's

Old Maiden's

An hour passed and Roland was still trying to debate what he wanted to do about the current situation. Seth's pained sobbing had been reduced to no noise whatsoever, the only evidence of taking damage being the paw that he clasped over his left eye and the stream of surprisingly still wet blood that trickled sluggishly out of the wound. Roland could only wonder how the brown dragon had been so idiotic. Of course, his rather immense courage to _ask_ for pain was drowned out by the sheer ferocity of Ashlyn's strike.

Even if Seth deserved everything that came to him – and even if he wasn't very friendly with Roland – the red dragon still pitied him. Although, that pity was rather slim, considering his previous actions. Still, Roland decided it would be best to see how he was doing. He knew that he probably should've taken him to a doctor of some kind, but a couple of kids walking into an office far past midnight would be a little suspicious. There were far more reasons as well; the claw marks Seth was trying to hide behind his bloodstained paw were pretty obvious. Someone would wonder who he was attacked by.

Plus, even if he didn't want to admit the harsh truth, he'd rather him suffer. Roland had since learnt that getting on Ashlyn's nerves meant a world of agony. Nobody treats Ashlyn like that without getting injured... At least he wouldn't try anything foolish while she's around again.

He paced over to Seth who was still bound up, sitting up against the wall. In an attempt to sound compassionate, Roland spoke up. "Are you okay?"

Seth winced slightly before replying, sarcasm thick within his tone. "Of course... It's not like my eye was just gouged out..."

"Gouged out?" Roland was a little confused. He'd seen it scratched but _gouged_ out? "I thought it was just a scratch..."

"Does this look like a scratch to you?" Seth grumbled before removing the paw he'd kept clasped over his eye.

"Ancestors..." He was immediately disgusted by it's shocking appearance; a red amalgamation of fleshy tissue. What was supposed to be an eye had disappeared, replaced by that... thing... It looked as if it had come out of the pits of hell itself.

A few seconds later, Seth placed his paw over the injury before gazing at him with his unharmed eye.

"I can't even see out of it," he continued, starting to become kind of fiery.

"I'm sure it'll get... Never mind..." Roland tried to be reassuring at first but quickly realised how stupid that remark would be. Time wouldn't heal those wounds. Heck, even spirit gems, the most reliable healing substance for a dragon, aren't capable of a replacing organs.

Seth frowned for a split second before realising how painful it was to move his eye. "I think I need a doctor..."

Roland had already taken thoughts about that but he still knew it wasn't very good idea. Definitely not at this time of day, either. In the end, Roland didn't bother responding. He still needed time to think about their current situation.

"What are you doing in Warfang, _no-breath_?" Seth asked suddenly, using that same, insulting name against him. Roland sighed.

"I don't know," he lied. Roland obviously had a few plans, even if they were a little faraway right now, "and stop calling me that..."

"Why?" Seth started to irritate him.

"I'll claw your other eye out," he responded. Seth laughed, only receiving another bout of aching as a result.

"Have you been taking after Ashlyn?" Seth kept trying to madden him. Roland felt his shoulders stiffen slightly. "I mean, I didn't think you were a very aggressive dragon."

Roland thought for a while before he came up with a pretty decent counter. "You know, for a dragon that just cried, you're pretty brave."

Almost instantly, Seth was fuming. Roland was astonished by how quickly he could turn the tables. "What did you just say about me?"

Roland almost grinned but forced the smile back. "I said you were brave..." He turned and started walking out of the door. "Or stupid... Both work..."

Seth scoffed before coming up with a retort, to which Roland didn't hear for he was already out the door. Roland thought he'd won, anyway.

He pondered the things he could do to pass the time. Other than slumbering, there really weren't many options. There was always Ashlyn; maybe she'd calmed down after the previous occurrence? There was only one way to tell...

However, when he tried to find her, she was nowhere to be seen.

Roland panicked a little. All he laid his eyes on was a moonlit, rundown street. He peered harder and further, worrying that she may have just ended up leaving.

A low creak sounded from above him. He immediately glanced up to see two paws dangling over the roof's splintered gutter. His worries swiftly came to an end, breathing a sigh of relief.

He took a few steps and turned to look up at the dragoness laying across the flat roofing. She returned the gaze before continuing to stare into the celestial moons. Roland raised his brow.

"Why are you up there?" he asked, befuddled. Her position was strange.

"Just staring," she answered. "Thinking..."

"About?" he questioned with a slight grin.

"Stuff," she responded once more. He kept trying to get a real answer out of her.

"What kind of stuff?"

Ashlyn shook her head. "Things and stuff."

Roland sighed in disbelief. "Be that way then..." He continued grinning.

"That's exactly what I'll do..."

He rolled his eyes, a little annoyed that she wouldn't give him a clear answer. "Can I join you?" he asked.

Ashlyn only groaned, feigning frustration, before shuffling leftward. "Fine..."

He smiled joyfully before quickly leaping into the air, his wings spread. He landed on the roof with a deafening thud, the roof creaking and screeching at the pressure he managed to force onto it. Roland almost tripped but managed to balance himself not a moment too soon. A quiet snicker came from Ashlyn's muzzle.

"Where did you learn to fly?" she teased, an almost devious smirk playing at her muzzle. Roland narrowed his eyes in her direction.

"Don't judge me..." he stated jokingly.

Ashlyn sighed in response before continuing to peer into the sky. Roland did enjoy gazing upwards, watching the constellations glimmer brightly. Unfortunately, the black sky was bare and boring. He knew that it probably had something to do with the time as morning was approaching quickly.

Being seated with someone he could call a friend was peaceful, though. Roland had never really had a friend before, usually keeping to himself. But this whole trip they'd taken was probably one of the best things to happen to him, despite all the sorrow, pain and suffering he'd endured.

His thoughts took him to the things he'd encountered earlier. Strange hooded people, dreadwings remerging from practically nowhere at all, some monstrous entity who called itself Drevon... It was all very frightening.

Then there were those few somewhat good moments. Meeting a talking deer who managed to save them, the race he'd shared with Ashlyn. It was peculiar but he would be lying if he exclaimed that he hadn't slightly enjoyed the trek he'd journeyed.

However, there was one thing that confused him a little, more so than the unusual enemies they'd faced. When he'd decided with Ashlyn to head towards Warfang, the agreement was that they would split up once they arrived at their destination. But now that they were here, not everything seemed to go to plan. It was about time he expressed these concerns to her.

"Hey... Ashlyn?" He tried to grab her attention, to which he was successful.

"Yeah?"

"I've been thinking," he started. "You know how we decided to come here?"

"Yes... What about it?" she asked, raising a brow.

"Well, weren't we supposed to split up?" he continued. Ashlyn didn't seem taken aback at all.

"That was the agreement..." she responded.

"Why didn't you leave?" he finished his question. Ashlyn was completely silent and still.

The moments that passed were lengthy. Roland only continued to stare into her deep, red eyes, hoping for a decent answer. He jumped back slightly when she spoke up again.

"It never really came to mind," she answered. Roland looked for any sign that she was lying but there was nothing to it. She expanded upon her answer a few moments later. "At first, I didn't really want anything to do with you..."

Roland winced at that remark but continued to listen to her, expecting it to get better as she went on.

"But you were very different to the other dragons I've met. You were actually kind of nice to me, unlike so many others..." Roland was a little surprised to hear her open up again. It was a rare opportunity to hear something like this, let alone twice in such a short space of time. He kept on being attentive, eager to hear more.

"I'd go as far as to say that you're the first... friend... I've had in a while." She looked down, somewhat depressed by what she'd just stated. Roland understood where she was coming from, having a very similar past. "So, yeah... That's why I haven't went anywhere. Other than the fact I have no clue where else I could actually go," shshedded with a slight smirk.

Roland didn't know how to reply to her. Nobody had ever liked him for who he was. He was glad that somebody could at least call him a friend...

"Are you complaining?" She suddenly asked. Roland was taken aback, shocked that she would ask such a thing.

"What? No..." He frowned before he saw her grin again.

"Just joking..."

He rolled his eyes in what felt like the hundredth time today before asking her a different question, changing the topic. "What are we going to do about Seth?"

Ashlyn's body stiffened at the name. "If it was up to me, I'd just leave him there... Let him rot."

Roland shivered at her harsh thoughts. "That's a little... cruel..."

"The things he said to me were cruel..." Ashlyn reinforced her remark. "He deserves it."

Despite holding a grudge against Seth himself, he didn't really think leaving him was a very pleasant option. But he didn't say anything to counter her argument.

"But," Ashlyn resumed, "I don't think we can. There were a few witnesses when I did... you know what."

"Witnesses?" Roland asked, already anxious after hearing the word. From what he'd seen, there were was nobody around at all.

"You didn't see them?" She was astonished that he had no idea. "They're watching us right now."

That phrase got him gazing worriedly at his immediate surroundings, trying to locate the stalkers she was speaking about. Surprisingly, he found a pair of beady eyes peering at him from the shadows of a ruined structure. By the time he was staring intently at the watcher, they disappeared without a trace.

Roland was used to stalking and sneaking up on others, but having another do the same to him was unsettling. He now knew how those people wandering the night felt. Despite how quiet and empty the streets felt, it was impossible to be alone. Someone was always there to keep you company, even if it was the kind of company everyone resented.

"I see what you mean..." he said, continuing to stare into the darkness in search of another pair of eyes. Unfortunately for him, his struggle to find what he was looking for turned out to be futile.

"Now that someone's seen him, I think it's best we get him to a doctor before that someone tells the city guard..." she explained before adding on to her statement. "I've gotten into enough trouble... And once they find out who I am – because the news will probably travel here – I'm guessing I'll be kicked out of the city again..."

"Don't you think the doctor would tell someone?" He still didn't think walking into a healer's place at this time was reasonable but Ashlyn begged to differ.

"Well, it's far safer to take _skavenger_ somewhere..." Roland grinned at the name she used. Skavengers were an ancient band of sky pirates who were known for attempting to capture the cities of old, of which most attempts were unsuccessful. Ashlyn was referring to the fact that most of those archaic hounds seemed to lose their eyes on a whim.

"And we can probably make up an excuse if someone wonders about what happened..." she added.

Roland was concerned about how suspicious they would appear but maybe she was right? However, he still voiced his worries. "Won't people think we're a little... strange?" he said, trying to search for an alright word. Strange probably wasn't a good choice, though.

"You mean suspicious?" she answered for him. He nodded quickly. "Other than those people," she directed his gaze towards another set of eyes, only for them to hurriedly disappear once more, "who are probably just as bad as us, nobody's around. It's best if we go now so someone doesn't come and say something."

Roland still wasn't too sure but was able to understand her reasoning. Hesitating slightly, he sighed, persuaded that this was the right thing to do.

"Alright..."

Ashlyn leaped off of the shack's roof and hit the ground silently and elegantly. He tried to do the same with just as much grace but found himself tripping over his own footing. For someone as stealthy as he was – and he knew he was rather sly – he was clumsy when it came to anything but pickpocketing. He grumbled quietly to himself as he followed Ashlyn through the door again.

"We're going," she said sharply. Seth was immediately peering at her with his fine eye.

"Going?" he questioned, confused. "Where?"

"To get you fixed..."

* * *

The journey towards the nearest healer was rather bland. They swiftly moved through the seemingly random slum in Warfang, no interesting conversations and no actions whatsoever. The watchers seemed to give up after a while, which made the red dragon breathe a hasty sigh of relief.

After several minutes of silent pacing, they finally reached a peculiar building just as the sun was starting to rise. Fortunately, they seemed to be just on time as dragons were beginning to roam Warfang.

Roland examined the sign on the front to read two words. "Old Maiden's?" He named the structure.

"Food, drink, rest..." Ashlyn flicked through an advertisement of some kind. "Looks like a tavern..."

"How is this supposed to be-" Roland frowned before he saw a single word that got him a little excited. "Oh... There's actually a healer... Thank the Ancestors for well-placed healers," he joked.

"I'm impressed," Seth spoke up before Ashlyn suddenly shushed him. "What?"

"They have practically everything here..." Ashlyn was kind of awestruck. "If this sign's not lying, then I think we've found the right place."

"Let's just hope they can help us," Roland added.

He quickly glanced over the structure once more. It was pretty large; not as enormous as the bath house he'd visited, but big enough to house the spacious room he could see through a glass pane and a stairwell that led upwards, probably holding several vacant rooms. There was a wide, bar-like counter and various wooden stools that looked as if they'd seen better days. Kegs were lined up behind the counter and sets of irregular, chipped tables were positioned almost erratically around the area.

Roland continued to search for what was supposed to be a medical centre and the closest he got was a door on the far end of the area, a red cross painted crazily across it's oak panelling. He immediately started to have second thoughts.

"Um... Are you sure about this?" Roland asked nervously.

"Not like we have a choice now..." Ashlyn shrugged before placing her paw on the door's rough handle.

"It's not like I have anything to lose..." Seth remarked. A quiet huff came from the dragoness's muzzle as she slowly entered the building. Roland saw Seth shake his head before he followed her through.

Before Roland walked through, he wondered why Seth wasn't in so much pain. Getting your eyes clawed furiously out of your skull would be agonising, especially in the long-term. So why not now? Perhaps there was more in his satchel than money?

Actually, why didn't Roland take the obviously rich wallet when he had the chance? Seth was unconscious for such a long time and he had every moment to rip it off his motionless body. He grumbled a little to himself, pushing the thoughts out of his mind. A moment later, he proceeded through the entrance and closed it rather noisily on his way in.

The place looked pretty deserted, as if someone hadn't been inside for weeks. Roland started questioning why they decided to enter in the first place.

"Maybe we should just go back?" hd stated before a low stamping noise could be heard coming from a hallway in the far left corner of the room. It got noisier with each passing moment and sounded at the pace of Roland's quickening heartbeat.

"Yeah, you're-" Ashlyn started to move back towards the door before she was cut off by an unknown entity.

"That door slammin' again..." A deep, almost dwarf-like tone called out to nobody in particular. Ashlyn was about to grab onto the door handle when a new figure emerged from the hallway.

It happened to be a mole; male and somewhat elderly. He wore a worn, leather shirt, stitched messily back together where it'd been damaged. A pair of slightly tattered trousers went with his top, as well as two hefty, iron boots that hit the floor heavily. A long, white beard rolled clumsily down his front. As of now, there was a short broadsword slung at his side. Although his attire was rather dirty and in need of repair, he looked prepared to face the wilderness.

"What's this?" He was startled. "Visitors?"

"Uh..." Ashlyn tried to think of a reply, quickly letting go of the door handle.

"Gee, a little early, kids..." he said, rolling his eyes before noticing who they were. "You look new..."

"Um... Yeah..." Roland responded awkwardly.

"Are ya lost, lad?" he asked, seating himself on one of the tables sprawled across the room.

"N-No..." he stuttered, a little shy. "We were just... um..."

"Hmm..." The mole pondered. "You have a funny look about you..."

Seth scoffed. "Speak for yourself..." He stated under his breath.

"Watch your tongue, lad!" He glared at the brown dragon, who was a little shocked that he'd heard him.

"Who are you?" Ashlyn questioned him, hoping for a proper answer. Unfortunately, that's not what she received.

"I could ask you the same question. In fact, why would a killer walk in here?"

The dragoness frowned. "Whoa, whoa... What?" Ashlyn exclaimed, horrified that someone she had no clue about knew exactly who she was.

"Don't try lyin' to me, lass. I can see it in your eyes..." he explained, to which Ashlyn was befuddled and worried at the same time. "And... on your claws..."

She immediately peered down at her paws to find specks of red dotting her nails. Ashlyn started wiping them off hurriedly.

"And you... you're a thief..." He answered correctly. Roland was certainly surprised by what he'd stated.

"H-How do you know that?" Roland inquired anxiously.

"As I said, I can tell..." he explained again. "And you..." He pointed at the brown dragon.

"Me?" Seth frowned.

"Yeah, you..." The mole continued. "You are a _nobody_."

"What?" Seth was a little furious. "What is wrong with you?"

"I think you should be asking yourself that question, lad." The mole grinned slightly. "You're an arse."

Roland managed a small smirk and snickered at his words but Seth was fuming. However, the brown dragon couldn't think up a reply.

"Now, what brings a thief, a killer and an idiot to my tavern?" He questioned once more. Roland decided to give him a clear answer, as to not waste time. From what he could tell, it seemed as if Seth was about to walk over and knock him unconscious. Something told Roland the complete opposite would happen if he tried...

"We were looking for a healer," Roland told him their reasoning for barging in uninvited, "the sign on the front said you have one here..."

"A healer, you say?" He stroked his beard in thought. "Well, Edna's' a little rusty, but she should do... Why do you need her?"

"Seth, here," Roland motioned towards him, "has an eye problem..."

"I was wonderin' what that was," he said before pointing to the left. "Just take that door with the cross on it."

"Thanks..." Ashlyn said quietly, still confused. "I guess..."

"Don't mention it, lass." He grinned happily. "Just hurry up. I have somewhere I need to go."

Without further ado, Roland took the lead towards the door. He watched the mole fall into a groggy sleep, clearly tired. It wasnt like they'd barged into the building at a reasonable hour. He was probably planning to head out but didn't want to leave the building unlocked and with visitors

The group passed the tables splayed about the room and reached the marked door. Roland placed a paw on the handle before quickly entering the room.

The room he found on the other side was to be expected. It was small and wooden. There were various kinds of medical equipment scattered loosely across a benchtop and a pile of scarlet spirit gems were heaped up against a corner. A ragged bed and an old chair could be found on the right of all the supplies.

In the chair sat a frail, elderly mole. Her name was obviously Edna, as the mole from before – probably the innkeeper – had stated. She looked excited to have visitors.

"Oh my, how wonderful!" Edna said, smiling. "I don't usually get visitors... And new visitors at that!"

"Hey..." Roland greeted her shyly.

"But you obviously didn't come to chat with an old woman." She shook her head but continued to grin cheerfully. "What can I do for you?"

"You're a doctor, right?" Ashlyn inquired. Edna nodded in response.

"That I am," she exclaimed.

"Can you fix him?" The dragoness pointed to Seth. "He has an eye problem..."

"Ooh, what kind?" She paced excitedly towards the brown dragon. Somehow, she wasn't turned off but looked shocked to see such a wound. "Oh my... How did you manage that one?"

"Uh..." Roland tried to think of a lie but was interrupted by Edna

"Why must you kids get into fights?" Edna muttered. "I'll need some time. Give me an hour or two and he'll be as good as new!"

Roland silently thanked her before making his way out. The people he'd met in this tavern were very different to the others he'd seen walking the streets. They weren't your typical, bland personality...

The innkeeper was still resting soundly on the table when he entered the more spacious room. Even if it was early, he had to wonder how someone could sleep on a hard table as if it was a bed.

"What now?" Ashlyn spoke up after a long minute of standing around.

Roland pondered the choices he could make before responding. "Why don't we have a look around here while we wait?"

"I've got a better idea." Ashlyn ignored his suggestion. "Why don't we just leave?"

The red dragon was surprised by what she was trying to say. "You think we should just leave Seth?"

"Yeah..." Ashlyn exclaimed. "It's not like he's very useful."

Roland wasn't sure what he wanted to do. She had a very good point and he had many more he could raise about why leaving the brown dragon was fine. But there was something that kept him from completely agreeing with her.

He didn't trust Seth at all. If they ended up leaving him, Roland knew he would try to avenge himself after the previous incident. It was just like Seth to do something like that... He was probably trying to think of a plan right now, now that he thought about it.

He was about to say something about how he felt, but someone cut him off.

"I don't trust him." The mole from before had suddenly awoken and stared at them from across the table. "But he needs to stay. Something tells me he's lookin' for revenge..."

"How does that have to do with leaving him?" Ashlyn glanced back at him.

"He wants revenge on _you,_ " the innkeeper elaborated, "I'm thinkin' he'll try to dob you in... So I wanted to keep him here. Or at least in my sights."

Ashlyn angled her head leftward. "Are you... trying to protect us?"

The mole grinned. "I have other reasons too, lass. I need to... ask him something..."

"Ask him something?" Roland frowned, looking for an answer. What could this mole hope to obtain from Seth?

"You don't need to worry about that." He winked in response.

Of course, Roland knew that this innkeeper wasn't just trying to be friendly. He needed something out of Seth. Alas, he had no clue what that thing might be. It wasn't like Seth knew him, so what could it possibly be?

There was still that possibility of Seth trying something, but he was able to shrug it off. The chances seemed pretty far off.

"You kids need rest," the mole spoke up, halting his thoughts, "you can take one of the rooms upstairs. It's on the house..."

"Th-Thanks..." Ashlyn was surprised to hear him offer up even more. It was unusual that he was giving so much . "You don't have to do all this..."

"It's my pleasure, lass." He happily waved them off. "I'll see to Edna..."

Before Roland could say another word, he was off to the medical bay. He shrugged before starting a slow walk to the staircase.

His paws hit the splintered set of steps, each and every one creaking unbearably loudly. It was almost familiar in a sense, reminding him of the staircase back at Darryl's homey cottage. He passed the steps and found himself in a small hallway with four somewhat untidy rooms. Peering into one, he found a little, grubby rug and a splintered desk. What did shock him, however, was just how well the bed was kempt. A nice, green blanket, a soft pillow and a gleaming finish sparkled on the velvety red wood it was carved out of. It put the rest of the room to shame and made it appear all the more bizarre.

When he glanced at the other spaces, he found they were all similar. That same rug – although not as dirty as its predecessor, a desk and a tidy bed. He ended up picking one at random, which happened to be on the far left of the hallway.

"You're not even going to say goodnight?" Ashlyn asked after rolling her eyes. He was about to say just that when a sly grin widened on his muzzle.

"It's not night time." He quickly entered the door and closed it behind him without another word. From the other side, he could hear Ashlyn stamping towards the room he'd taken.

The door careened open briskly to reveal Ashlyn, her eyes narrowed. "Good morning."

He chuckled before returning the gesture. "Good morning, Ash."

Again, he shut the door quietly. With a noisy yawn, he paced drearily towards the comfortable appearance of the bed. After such an eventful evening, he realised how exhausted he really was. He quite literally threw himself into the bed's covers and snuggled up in its warmth.

Roland was expecting to doze off almost immediately but his body wouldn't allow it. He felt unrelaxed and tense. Pictures of Seth popped into his mind. He started to have second thoughts about his supposed safety.

Roland let out a long sigh. He knew he needed to relax. He knew he would be safe here. All these problems were in his head... But they were entirely possible...

His mind started to flare painfully. Switching back and forth; having a completely different mindset every few seconds. These problems were so real, yet so faraway. He felt safe but endangered; calm but tense. His feelings were difficult to describe. A plethora of pleasant and unwanted emotions.

He felt unusually sacred about the future and what would come of it.

He did realise there was a sure-fire way to end all of his problems. Something that could have him living without these problems...

Murder was definitely an option...

But he almost slapped himself for thinking that. He didn't want to be labelled as a killer. Even if he was a criminal, he still felt above that. He didn't want to be like Ashlyn...

His train of constantly switching thoughts ended abruptly on that note. Where did that one come from? Admittedly, she was a murderer but there was so much to her than that. Plus, she clearly had a reason to do something so horrible... Didn't she? He let another drawn out sigh escape from his maw.

He knew for certain someone wouldn't do something as drastic as that without a reason to do it in the first place. It could be anything, from money to revenge. Ashlyn might just be one of those dragons, but if he was being honest, he knew there was more to it than that. The way in which she reacted whenever someone mentioned her past actions was a sign of that. But who was he to take guesses about why she did what she did?

Roland shook his head before staring into the planked roof of his room. It was rather rotten; unkempt like the rest of the room. Of course, his bed was a totally different story.

For now, Roland had sleep to catch up on. Staying up at this time wasnt going to do him much good.

His mind and body weary, he felt his eyelids closing and he soon surrendered to the exhaustion he'd faced. Wrapped in his bed's warmth, he slowly drifted off to sleep, still anxious over his previous thoughts.


	7. A Journey Backwards

A Journey Backwards

Roland woke up feeling weary. Despite how soft and warm his bed was, his slumber was full of uncomfortable tossing and turning that kept him awake throughout almost the entirety of the night. If he was going to take a wild guess, he'd barely slept an hour. What was worse was the fact that he had no clue why he hadn't managed much sleep. Maybe it was his worries from earlier? He couldn't tell.

With a noisy groan, he stretched his tired ligaments and pushed his covers off. As he slowly lifted himself from the bed, he tried to peer into the blackness of his room. He remembered there being a curtained window somewhere but he had to locate it first.

After almost tripping on one of the bed's legs, Roland put a paw in front of him so he wouldn't slam into the wooden walls of his room. He walked unhurriedly across the floor and he was eventually able to find the window he was thinking about.

He slowly drew the curtain and expected a vast amount of bright light to pour into his room. What he received, however, was a dull, gloomy shine cast from the celestial moons and a brilliant array of stars. It was surprising to realise how long he'd tried to sleep for; well over twelve hours.

The light was just enough to see his own four feet and the rest of the room. Quickening his pace a little, he reached the door and opened it. From the hallway he could see the staircase and a warm, orange light emanating dimly from below it. His curiosity urged him to inspect it.

Without a moment of hesitation, he started the walk back down the creaky steps. He found that the orange brightness came from some lit sconces around the room. However, this wasn't the only thing he found...

He was shocked to see that some of the seats were taken by dragons and moles he'd never seen before.

They were of all different varieties and looked to be of different backgrounds as well. However, there was a similarity between himself and the other strangers. All of them were around his age, maybe give or take a year's difference.

Many bemused glances were thrown his way. Roland decided it would be best to get a move on before someone spoke up. When he did resume his walking, every floorboard on the steps creaked and cracked violently which only added to the nervousness he felt pacing down the stairwell.

He chose an isolated table in the corner. The faces that peered at him quickly went back to their regular chattering and laughing. In the corner like this, he felt lonely. Ashlyn was probably still sleeping and he had not a single clue where Seth might be.

Roland glanced around the room to look at it's inhabitants. They all looked a little grubby and the ratio of dragons to moles was even if he excluded himself. Five dragons and five moles. All of them had a strange air surrounding them. They way they spoke and the things they were doing made them seem... _unlawful_... He had no clue where that came from. Maybe it was because he was on the same boat? Was the mole from earlier able to tell because of the way he moved? It all seemed a little ridiculous, but it worried him.

The sound of heavy footfalls could be heard advancing towards him, so he glanced up. The innkeeper from earlier was walking up to him, a large grin on his face. Rather than the attire he'd seen him in before, his clothes were a little more casual.

"Hey, lad," the mole greeted him.

"Hey," Roland stared down at the table, still somewhat shy. The mole frowned at him before taking a seat opposite the dragon.

"Would ya like a drink, lad?" he asked. Roland was befuddled as to why he would ask such a question.

"You serve drinks to children?" he questioned. The innkeeper laughed heartily in response.

"All the drinks are alcohol free, kiddo. What kind of person would I be if I did that?"

"Oh, um..." Roland grinned slightly as he tried to think of something that could quench his thirst. He quickly realised he had no idea what the menu was. "What do you recommend?"

"The ginger ale is a favourite o' mine," he answered, "a little spicy goin' down but a nice, refreshing aftertaste."

"I'll, um... take one of those..."

"I'll go grab that for ya." He lifted himself from the table and walked briskly towards the kegs. Roland sighed before continuing to gaze into the table.

He wondered when Ashlyn might come down and where Seth might be, even if he disliked the latter. Ashlyn was probably just procrastinating about the idea of getting out of the warmth of her bed. As for Seth, he hadn't a clue. He could be in the medical bay but that seemed unlikely, considering the amount of time Roland had slumbered. But if he was going to be honest with himself now, he didn't give a damn where the brown dragon might be. After everything that'd happened – every word he'd spoken – it was difficult to care about Seth's safety.

A minute later and the innkeeper returned with a flagon of frothy, yellowy drink. Someone could probably mistake it for beer...

"Here we are..." He set the wooden flagon down in front of the dragon. "Ginger ale. Prob'ly my finest work..."

"Thanks." He took the drink in his paw and took a sip. It was surprisingly spicy on the way down, just like the mole had told him, burning his throat slightly. It bubbled and fizzed on his tongue, like sparks crackling in a campfire. However, the taste turned into a strange amalgamation of sweet and sour that somehow worked. He was pleasantly surprised by just how tasty it was. "This is great..."

"You're welcome, lad." He smiled happily as Roland took another swig, this time longer. "You're lookin' a bit lonely here... I might call down that girl for ya."

"Uh, no..." Roland said in-between drinking. "It's okay..."

"Trust me, lad. You'll be better off," he said before wandering away from him. Roland sighed. He didn't really want to wake the dragoness just so he wasn't lonely, but the mole insisted. He could only imagine Ashlyn's priceless expression when the innkeeper barged through her door. Roland giggled quietly to himself as he took another mouthful of his drink.

As he sat and waited for him to return, he decided to listen in on the conversations around the tavern. He knew how impolite eavesdropping was but it didn't stop him from doing it.

Most of the discussions were on the bland side. A dragon and a mole were talking about their favourite drink and another group seemed to be talking about him – he glared in their direction but they didn't notice him. There was one topic that he found particularly interesting, however.

A dragon was speaking to a dragoness about some supposed legendary treasure. Apparently it wasn't just money but some kind of magical artefact that had the ability to grant you your one true desire. Anything from incredible riches to overwhelming amounts of power were possible if you just said the word. It sounded amazing but that had to be a legend. Nothing was capable of something as impossible as that... Right?

He went on to explain its apparent whereabouts; somewhere deep within the jungles of Tall Plains, an area of groves and bushland hundreds of miles west of Warfang. Roland would love to get his claws on such a thing but even getting to its location would take several weeks of flying, let alone finding it and if it even exists. If he could get the chance, he had to ask someone about this strange rumour. It seemed worthwhile

"Already up?" Ashlyn suddenly spoke up. He hadn't even noticed her walking towards him; too busy gazing into his flagon of ginger ale.

"Yeah... Only been a few minutes..." He tried to look for the innkeeper but noticed he wasn't with her. "Where's the mole?"

"He said he had something to attend to." She took a seat opposite him. "I'm not sure what it is..."

When Roland gazed at Ashlyn, he was able to notice how exhausted she looked, as if she hadn't gotten a wink of sleep either. "You look tired," he exclaimed, somewhat worried. She rubbed her eyes with a paw.

"Just a little," she responded before glancing at his drink and changing the subject. "What have you got there?"

Roland lifted a single brow but decided not to push it. Nine times out of ten, she would declare that she's fine, anyway. "Ginger ale..."

"Aren't you a little young to be drinking?" She tilted her head rightward in puzzlement. Roland snickered quietly.

"Alcohol free." He grinned. Ashlyn rolled her eyes.

"Is it any good?" she asked.

"It's great," Roland replied shortly.

Time flew by as the two chatted about their journey from Avalar to Warfang and a little about themselves. Roland realised he didn't actually know very much about the dragoness, and now was as good a time as any to catch up on that.

"So, Roland," she started, "how did you become a thief?"

He was taken aback by the question. "That's a long story..."

"It's not like we have a time limit..."

It wasn't like he was going to lose much from telling his tale. It might even make such a bland night a little more interesting... It would definitely pass the time.

Roland sighed. "Well... Alright. Here goes nothing."

He had a lot of things to remind himself about; who he was, his parents... everything. It was difficult but he tried to piece together a moderately interesting story. Ashlyn seemed intrigued, anyway.

* * *

A young, red quadruped, seven years of age, was seated at a table, a meal of what looked like venison in front of him. He licked his muzzle before sloppily chowing down on the hunk of tender meat, not taking a moment to savour its taste.

"Not so fast, Roly," a feminine voice exclaimed, "you'll get a stomach ache..."

The young dragon, obviously Roland, glanced at his mother, his mouth full. "It's too good, Mum..."

"Listen to your mother, kiddo," a male voice spoke up. "we don't want our little boy getting indigestion, do we?"

Roland sighed, spitting the contents of his meal across the table. "Fine..." Reluctantly, he started to eat slowly. He received a cheerful grin from his parents.

"Now, Roland," His mother said after finishing off the veil. "just to let you know, your father and I are going out tommorow morning. You'll have the whole house to yourself."

"Um, okay." He shrugged. "What for?"

His father chose to explain. "We have a meeting, kid." He'd been to a meeting before and found that they were probably the most boring things in all of existence. The red dragon rolled his eyes.

He groaned. "Why do you even go to those things?"

"So we can set you up for the academy!" his mother responded. At this, Roland was pleasantly surprised. He'd always wanted to go to the academy and now that his mother had mentioned what was happening, it all seemed so close. He would get to meet the Guardians of Avalar and learn to use his breath powers. Oh, he could make friends and...

His father ended up distracting him from his thoughts. "It'll run for a while, kid. Don't expect us until after lunchtime, okay?"

"Alright!" he answered joyfully.

"And remember..." his dad pointed a claw towards him, "don't make a mess, no guests, no-"

"Yeah, I've got it, Dad..." He shook his head in irritation. Every single time they had to go out it was always the same; ceaselessly explaining every rule of the house. By now, they were practically drilled into his mind.

After a discussion about what would happen tomorrow – he listened intently as to learn about the exciting things he was getting into – his parents sent him off to bed. He strode through a short hallway and entered the door that led to his room.

A little hesitantly, he climbed into his bed. Roland wasn't really in the mood for sleep and he felt much too excited to even doze off at all. So instead, he sat there and stared blankly into his roof, awaiting the morning. Sleep just wasn't an option right now...

* * *

"Is that it?" Ashlyn asked, confused as to why he would stop there.

"No, no," he chuckled. "If that was the case, I wouldn't even bother in the first place." Roland took one quick sip of his drink to clear his throat before he continued.

* * *

Despite what he believed would happen, he woke up from an unplanned slumber. Roland was almost shocked that he had managed to sleep but it didn't bother him for very long. Instead, he leaped out of his bed covers energetically and exited his own room.

He was about to call out for his mother but he immediately remembered she wasn't around. He sighed as he realised that he would have to make his own breakfast.

The day went by relatively quickly. He was absorbed in a new fantasy novel about a young fire dragoness he'd borrowed from Avalar's library. Something about being lost in a big world and making friends. He found it particularly interesting and managed to lose track of time poring over its contents.

When midday came, he was expecting his parents to stroll through the door but they were nowhere to be found. He huffed to himself, thinking it must've went later than expected.

He actually finished the book that day; from start to finish. There was still no sign of his parents and it was rather late in the afternoon. Still, he continued waiting patiently.

But when nightfall came, he started to worry. Did something happen to them? Were they okay? The questions raced through his head without an answer. Maybe they were just running late? Yeah, that had to be it...

Anxious and afraid, he grabbed a blanket from his bed and curled up in a chair, awaiting his parents' return. He tried to stay up but he quickly found himself dozing off once more.

A lot of the days he spent went by like that. Although very worried, he brought himself to go to the library to borrow more novels. Most of the time was spent on his bed, trying to calm his nerves and awaiting his mother and father.

But not once did they return...

Something had happened... Something bad had happened. He couldn't deny that fact anymore.

So, instead of waiting impatiently, he opted to go out and find them. How hard could it be? They couldn't of gone too far. In fact, he knew exactly where to start looking; the academy was only a short jog from his home.

After finishing up another book, he leaped up from his bed, opened the small window and careened outside, ready for an adventure across the city of Avalar. His wingspan not large enough for flight, he gradually made his way towards the ground in a glide and hit the quiet street with a thump. It was pretty empty, probably because of how early in the morning it was; the sun was only just rising. He had decided to give himself a lot of time. This wasn't something he would be able to do in a single hour.

He made the short journey towards the academy at a slow jog. Instantly recognising the large structure, he went inside and was greeted with a grand entry hall. Although it was early, someone was behind a counter – a mole – rearranging folders and books.

"Hi..." Roland greeted them silently, a little shy.

They were immediately startled. "Oh?" The female mole turned from her position. "H-Hello, young one... What can I do for you?"

"I, um... was just wondering if you've seen my mum and dad?" he asked. The mole lifted a single brow.

"Oh, a-are you lost? What did they look like?" she questioned him, curious about his dilemma.

"She, um..." He explained how they looked. Slowly, the mole shook her head. He peered down at the floor, sighing softly. It was just his luck that they were not around here.

"I'm so sorry, young one," she exclaimed sadly. She looked about as depressed as he was about his situation. "Nobody of that description has walked in here today.

"How about this week?" Roland suddenly asked. There was a still a tiny fraction of hope left dwindling inside of him. After all, several days had passed since their supposed visit.

Unfortunately, all he received was another sluggish, upsetting shake of her head. "Nothing..."

He moaned sadly again, completely out of leads. If they hadn't arrived at the academy, where were they and what had happened? Would he ever be able to find them now?

"Th-Thanks," he said quietly before turning to move out of the building.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Yeah," Roland quickly replied. Not waiting for another empathetic statement, he exited the academy.

What was he supposed to do now? He had absolutely no idea where to go. His parents could be anywhere...

Roland let out another long breath as he buried his head in his paws. He was never going to find them. He would always be alone...

The young dragon huffed before he lifted his gaze. He shouldn't be thinking like that. That dwindling hope inside of him grew a little.

He'd heard his mother tell him that nothing was impossible. In this case, it had to be true... He had to find them, even if it was the last thing he did...

Roland spent the entirety of day searching but every time he found a new lead, it was ripped away from him. Talking to others came up bare, searching every nook and cranny in the city of Avalar ended up being utterly worthless. And after searching far and wide, moving all over the city, he found himself very far from home.

Realising just how lost he was, he leaned himself up against the wall of a dark alleyway. However, it didn't matter to him right now. He would only end up continuing his search the next day. This alleyway would do for now.

He sunk into the shadows so he would at least be slightly safe. What he didn't need right now was someone finding him like this in the middle of the night.

As days of looking went by, that hope he'd once had was slowly vanishing. He grew frustrated with every dead end he hit, and depressed that he couldn't do the one thing he hoped to achieve.

And one day, he decided to halt his non-existent progress. All of this futile searching made him want to give up.

When he realised he couldn't remember where home was, he sunk to the pavement, a slow tear coursing down his face. Every effort he'd went to had been for nothing. Everything he'd tried had made his own position worse.

There was nothing left for him now...

As he positioned himself in another alleyway, he felt a wetness fall onto him. When he peered into the night sky, all he could feel were droplets careening onto his snout.

The downfall grew heavier and he only grew colder, damper and more afraid. The wetness in his eyes began streaming down his face. A low sob escaped his muzzle.

Worse still was how hungry he was feeling. After eating nothing for days on end, he had only just started feeling its effects. He wouldn't be able to live like that. But how was he supposed to obtain a decent meal at this time? No suggestions came to mind. Unless...

No, he couldn't do that. He wasn't _that_ low...

But did he really have a choice? Stealing seemed like the only viable option.

Then he guessed it was decided. There was no choice to make; asking if he wanted to steal was like asking if he desired to live. It was all a matter of survival now.

He lifted himself shakily from the stone pavement and wiped the wetness from his eyes. There was no use in sobbing over something he wouldn't obtain. His parents had seemingly disappeared but that didn't mean it was the end. He had a job to do and he wasn't going to let something stop him, despite how drastic it might be.

Roland tried to keep to the thin veil of darkness the looming structures cast over the city. He wandered those streets for the longest of times. Again, he was losing hope...

But he was shocked to find what he was searching for in the form of a dragon. They'd seated themselves on a wooden bench and right beside them, uneaten and fresh, was a scrumptious looking apple pie. His stomach groaned quietly in response.

Licking his maw, he creeped towards the unsuspecting victim. He made it to the dragon rather quickly and that pie was within his grasp. The dragon couldn't actually spot him in the darkness.

But before he took the pastry, he thought about what he was about to commit. Once he did this, he would never be the same. Earlier he might've considered himself completely innocent, pure even. But now? He wasn't sure what to call himself...

What was he on about? This would only be a one time thing, right? This wasn't going to have many repercussions and maybe he could find someone to take him in after all this. There was always tommorow.

"Sorry," he quietly muttered to himself before snatching the pie from the bench. Sprinting, he tried to get away as briskly as possible. Unfortunately for Roland, the dragon he'd just thieved from realised exactly what had just happened.

"What the _heck_?" they exclaimed, surprised. Thief!" And with that, they ran, almost flew, to catch him.

Roland gasped when he found out what was happening. He put the pie atop his back and arranged his shoulders and wings accordingly so he could grasp into it. His heart pounding like a piston inside of his chest, he scampered as swiftly as his stubby legs would allow him.

He rounded a corner, the noisy stomping behind him loudening by the moment. This dragon, despite how hard he tried, was swifter than him. At that very second, Roland knew exactly what he had to do.

There was a corridor on his left that he immediately took. Inside of that was a large, metallic container; a dumpster of sorts. Not another thought crossing his mind, he leaped inside.

Fortunately, there was no garbage inside of it. How much rubbish he was sitting in wasn't his biggest concern, however.

The stomping of paws quickly increased in sound before softening. Roland breathed a drawn out sigh of relief. He was safe.

Jumping out of the container, he fell onto the ground and set the apple pie aside. Strangely enough, he cracked up laughing. He had absolutely no clue why, but he still did. Maybe it was a joyous laugh, considering the things he'd just went through? He was able to admit that it was quite the thrilling experience.

And that he enjoyed it...

The laughter suddenly halted. He couldn't believe just how entertaining that chase was. Sure, there were risks involved, but that didn't outweigh how much fun he'd had.

Roland's stomach growled for the pastry once more. Gulping down its contents, he wiped his muzzle.

He could see himself doing this so many more times. The thrill, the excitement; it was truly amazing.

It was at that moment that he knew what he could do. He was never going to find his parents, and living in an orphanage just wouldn't be good enough for him. In fact, he'd started to enjoy the loneliness and quietness of Avalar at night.

He guessed it was decided then...

Roland had become a thief. It might not have been the greatest choice, but he was proud nonetheless.

* * *

"That's what happened?" Ashlyn asked, a little surprised. "You just made that choice on a whim?"

"Yeah," he responded. She sighed.

"I need to go," she said before quickly getting up from her seat.

"What? Where are you going?"

"I-I... um..." She gazed at the boarded floor. "I m-might head off to bed..."

"Okay..." He frowned as the dragoness quickly sprinted up the steps. Her issue looked urgent...

He laid his paws on table and rested his muzzle on them. His story was, if for a lack of a better description, not very descriptive. He wasn't capable of remembering the faces he'd seen and the places he'd been to. Heck, he couldn't remind himself of his parents' appearance. He was especially embarrassed about that. Roland didn't really blame himself, however. It'd been seven years since those events.

Maybe he was just forgetful?

Roland glanced around the room. Most of the people from earlier had left. In fact, there was only one dragoness left.

He was utterly shocked when he realised who it was. That yellow dragon that'd been appearing in his dreams...

His maw gaped and his eyes were wide. The yellow dragoness seemed to wink at him. He closed his eyes and rubbed them in case he was just seeing things. And almost erratically, the scar that cut through his torso started to burn furiously.

He clasped a paw against his heart, groaning in agony. What had caused this sudden amount of pain?

Suddenly, the dragoness seemed to crumble into a large pile of ash and the burning sensation stopped as soon as it had started. He frowned before briskly rising from his position and running over to the mound. He was surprised when he didn't see a thing. She had just faded away from existence; nothing left at all...

"What the-" he spoke to himself. He wasn't able to comprehend what had happened at all. Did he just imagine everything? Was this all just inside of his mind? But, just like his dreams, she looked so real...

He peered down again and, once more, there was absolutely nothing. This had to be an illusion. Dragons don't just disintegrate like that.

For now he tried to let it go, as difficult as that might be. He paced back towards his table and took a seat.

After a few moments of staring blankly into his still unfinished drink, he heard the innkeeper's heavy iron boots hitting the floor.

"Hey, kiddo," he said, "how was your night?"

"Hi... and good..."

"That's great." He took the seat opposite Roland. "You stayin' here again?"

"Well, um..." Roland thought about it. He shrugged. "I guess..."

"That's alright," he grinned slightly before replacing it with a more serious, solemn expression, "but I have to ask you somethin'..."

Roland took a sip of his ginger ale before frowning. "What is it?"

"I don't mean to sound rude 'n' all," he explained, "but I don't think I can offer up my services for free."

Roland instantly knew where this was going. "You want me to pay? I mean, I have no money."

"That's why I'm not chargin' you," he responded. The dragon was relieved to here that. "But I have a... proposition, if you will."

"What is it?" he questioned. A slight smirk played on his features.

"You see," he started to elaborate, "the others who come here are all thieves. Every now and then, they go out 'n' steal for me, in exchange for using me inn. And, well... I want you to do the same, lad. It's how I keep this place runnin'."

Roland wasn't in the least bit surprised. In fact, he had been kind of expecting something along these lines. He joined the mole in his grinning.

"Is that all?" he questioned with a low snicker. "I can do that, I guess."

The mole laughed joyously. "Great! Why don't you try tommorow?"

He considered it for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, that should be okay."

"Okay, tommorow night. I have a pretty rich target. Should be a good bit o' fun..."

Roland felt splendid after hearing about what he had planned. This was the first kind of paid work he was doing for someone; a thing he'd desired to do for a while.

"You can head off to bed now." The mole winked at him before walking towards the entrance to the tavern. He was in his beaten travelling gear, that same steel broadsword slung at his side.

Before the innkeeper left his tavern, Roland spoke up. "You know, I never got your name..."

He stopped in his tracks and turned slightly. "Lando Nagul," He smiled, strapped on a leather cap he had grasped in his hands and exited the building. What a strange name...

Roland sighed happily before making the walk upstairs once more. Everything tonight had went pretty well, apart from the fact Ashlyn ran away as soon as he had finished telling his story. It was pretty clear that she had some matters to attend to. What they were was unknown to him, but he didn't mind. It was probably for the best if he did this stick his snout in another's business.

As he treaded past the door to Ashlyn's room, he thought he heard something come from inside. A low muttering and... a muffled sob? Was Ashlyn... _crying_?

He frowned as he put his head against the oaken door to see if he'd really heard those things. But despite his attempt, he didn't hear another sound come from inside. He thought about tapping on the door to see if she was okay, but he really wasn't sure if he'd heard anything at all now. This night had been absolutely chock-full of imagining things. That was for sure.

It seemed like the better option was to knock on the door, but Ashlyn was probably slumbering. If he disturbed her, he'd probably get cursed and frowned at. He could admit he was kind of a coward in that situation but it didn't matter. Barging into someone's room like that was rude, especially if they wanted to be alone. He sighed silently again before entering his room from earlier.

When he glanced around the room once more, he was astonished. The entire thing was spotless, all the furniture had been replaced and rearranged. It looked like a room fit for a lord.

He grinned before leaping onto the bed once more, it's green covers replaced by vibrant, red ones. It looked as if it'd been made with him in mind. He felt that Lando had something to with this.

Happy about what was to come, he lay in bed, gazing into the newly replaced boards of his roof. How had someone applied all this within the short span of time he was downstairs? And how did they manage to do it without making a single noise?

It didn't matter right now. He was perfectly relaxing like this.

Tommorow was going to be _exciting_ , to say the least.

* * *

 **I'm going to admit that the short 'journey' into the past was kind of filler. I wasn't too sure about what I wanted to put in here and I thought I might just put a bit of backstory in. The next chapter should be normal again, though. So yeah... there's that.**


	8. Robed

Robed

Roland was intrigued by the plan Lando had set up for him. The plot was very concise; get in, make it to the vault on the bottom floor, pick the lock and escape with the gems in hand. It was very simple stuff, but Roland never pulled off burglaries often. In fact, his last attempt had been miraculously thieving a bed that he'd been using back in his old sewer pipe. That was well over two years ago now and it obviously wasn't very smooth.

"I'm not sure who'll be in there," Lando continued explaining, "so be on your toes, lad."

"Well, I'll try to stay away from them," Roland said. A small smirk played at the mole's mouth.

"Good on you." Lando straightened himself. "I have to do a few things, lad. I'll see ya when you come back."

"See you soon." He waved before the mole set off outside once more. He wasn't going out with a blade by his side which Roland found a little surprising. Instead, he just wore those plain clothes Roland saw when he was around the inn. Maybe he wouldn't need his broadsword today?

But then again, what was he actually using it for? Roland could only wonder about the many possibilities having a weapon like that offered. However, he guessed it probably wasn't the most _lawful_ of reasons, considering who he was.

For now, Roland decided to do something more useful than thinking. Ashlyn didn't know about the plan yet and it was about time he said something to her. He didn't really want Ashlyn going, even if she was great at sneaking about.

He padded up the steps and tapped lightly on Ashlyn's door. A few moments later, she emerged.

"Hm?" Ashlyn mumbled, rubbing her eyes. She looked a little unusual; her eyes had this particularly strange glint in them and her stance made her look rather depressed. There was also this air of exhaustion around her, as if she hadn't even tried to slumber.

Roland lifted his brow. "Hey, um... are you alright? You look a little... tired..."

Almost immediately, Ashlyn made herself stand straighter so she wouldn't appear to be so exhausted. "I-I'm fine, Roland."

"Ashlyn..." Roland saw the falsehood in her statement almost immediately. "We know that's not true..."

"I, um... was out last night. Just a little tired," she said. Roland narrowed his eyes.

"Seriously, what's wrong?" He stared blankly at her. Ashlyn was a terrible liar. She sighed in frustration.

"I'm okay, Roland. I'm being honest..."

The red quadruped shook his head in annoyance. Roland would've liked to continue but he decided it was for the best if he didn't. What he didn't want was an angry dragoness yelling at him because he desired the truth. He'd since learnt from his past errors.

"Anyway," she started again, leaning against the door, "is there something you wanted to tell me?"

"Well, yes actually," he answered, "I'm going out tonight."

"Going out? Where?" she asked, lowering her brow.

"A job from Lando, the innkeeper..." He got a curious glance from Ashlyn so he elaborated. "A burglary down in Eastern Warfang."

Ashlyn snorted. "Why in the Ancestors' name would he want you to pull off something like that? Is he aware of how dangerous that is? Plus, he didn't seem like the kind of guy that would want to do that..."

"Well, it's happening," Roland said. "He needs it to run the inn apparently."

"Am I going?" Ashlyn questioned him, that depressed look replaced by a little hope. Sadly, Roland had to shake his head.

"It's just me." Roland offered her a small smile. "Just a one dragon job..."

"Oh..." Ashlyn glanced briefly at the floorboards.

"You look like you need the sleep, anyway," he responded. His smirk changed to an expression of concern. "In fact, you should probably be getting rest right now. I know you're tired, Ash..."

Ashlyn narrowed her eyes before she took a step back into her room. "Alright..." She tapped the door lightly with her tail blade on her way in to close it up. There was a muffled thump from the other side, as if she'd leapt into her bed. Satisfied, Roland treaded slowly towards his room and took a seat on his bed.

He pondered about what might happen during the theft. Every house was different – in this case it was a mansion. He would have to find a way downstairs, and that was apparently up in the very back room. There was also the matter of who might be there – he was hoping there wouldn't be a single soul within those walls but even Lando had explained how that probably wouldn't be the case. This was going to be a difficult first assignment but Roland was sure he could manage. He'd done it before – although with a little luck – and he would do it again.

It was only going to be petty theft again, right? Just on a somewhat larger scale...

All he had to do right now was prepare for nightfall. That would come soon enough...

* * *

Roland didn't feel very prepared. All things considered, he wasn't sure how to prepare for a job of this scale. Stealing from someone was one thing. Thieving from a building was another... And even before all this he'd fluked most of his past robberies.

"Good luck, kiddo." Lando clapped him on the back. "You'll need it..."

"Th-Thanks," he stuttered. Lando was correct: he would definitely need all of the luck he could get his claws on.

"You'll be fine, Roland." Ashlyn had come to say a quick goodbye. Unfortunately, she still looked just as sleep deprived as earlier this morning.

"I can only hope," he muttered to himself. He immediately grinned to see if he could lighten the tense mood looming in the air

"She's right. You'll be great," Lando said with a wink. Roland wasn't very fond of all the pressure being thrust onto him; his grin weakened slightly.

"Oh well... I shouldn't keep those gems waiting," he exclaimed, if only to get away from the two. He needed to focus on the task at hand and standing around here was only going to make him more anxious. "I might get going."

"We'll see you later, lad."

"Yeah... what he said."

Roland waved before pacing out the door to the tavern. He let out a shaky breath. Even if they didn't mean to, he still felt like they were pressuring him too much. It felt as if the world itself was on his back.

Maybe he could've brought Ashlyn along? It would help relieve the tension a little...

No, this was his task. He could do it himself. He _was_ going to do it himself.

So, with another tremulous breath, he lifted himself into the air. He'd been shown a map of the city earlier this day so he had a fair idea of what he was looking for. In the darkness, it was going to be difficult, but the celestial moons would assist in rectifying that problem. They always cast that faint moonlight onto the streets, lighting up the city that much more.

In fact, the sky was astonishing this night. Light and colour mixed with the blackness of the sky, creating quite the amazing spectacle. Again, he saw the constellation named after the hero of legend himself. However, tonight it shined down upon him beautifully, as if to try to give him hope. It was strange, but he found solace in that one formation. There was just something about the way it looked; the flame of a dragon.

After staring into the night sky for what felt like an eternity, he looked downwards to find his target, recognised probably because it was the largest on the street. It actually looked like it fit in with the spires of Warfang; still that almost yellowy colour. A normal civilian probably wouldn't notice it was there, despite its huge size.

"Here we go," he muttered to himself, gliding downwards before hitting the ground at the front door. Of course, he tripped whilst landing. After lifting himself up with a groan, he stared the door down.

According to Lando, this was the only entrance. There was no chimney, no back door and smashing through a window would be an absolutely terrible idea. Setting off the alarm was the last thing he desired.

Roland guessed it was about time he stopped the notions running through his mind. With a low sigh, he started.

He tried to turn the handle but was unsurprised to find it locked up. This wasn't a problem, however. Roland fitted a claw into the lock and started fiddling with the mechanism inside. After struggling a little, he fitted a second nail into the door and twisted with all his might. He smirked when he heard a resounding click from the other side.

The door slowly swung open and he was greeted with a short hallway that extended off to the left and right in what looked like a 'T'. He narrowed his eyes when he realised he had a decision to make.

After thinking long and hard, he finally decided that taking the right was the best option. Not because it seemed like a good option, but because he didn't care; each was just as dangerous as the other.

He creeped sluggishly around the corner and found an enormous room on the other side. There were three rows of bookshelves, each and every one stacked with tomes. Roland was a little freaked out by the sheer magnitude of the place. It seemed so much smaller on the outside...

Surprisingly enough, there was nobody around which he was joyful about. Curious, he checked the bookshelves.

He lowered his brow when he saw they all had the same title. _Flames: Burning_... Whoever lived here was clearly a basket case...

What made the books worse were the words printed inside of them. _Burning, Burning, Burning_... Over and over again. It creeped him out.

Deciding to let the weird occurrence go, he continued through the mansion quietly. When he glanced back at where he came from, he noticed that the 'T' only led to the library; both ways went to the same place. He shook his head in irritation. You don't build houses like that; it was all so wrong...

The 'library' branched off into two paths. Again, there was one on each side. He went back to his roots and chose right once more.

The next space was just as weird. There was a huge, unfilled pool in the middle of the room that resembled the one in Warfang's bathhouse. How did all of this fit in here? He was certain the building was smaller than this, despite being the most expansive on the street.

Realising there were no other rooms expanding off of this one, he went back to the library...

Well, at least he thought it was a library...

All the bookshelves were gone and the room wasnt even the same size. Instead, it was an armoury of some kind. Sets of shining armour not fit for a dragon were organised neatly against a wall and sharp swords and axes hung off of the walls. In fact, this stuff didn't look fit for a mole either; it was much too big...

Roland was bewildered. What was going on? It was as if the rooms themselves were dancing around; as if the very walls he was exploring were attempting to humiliate them. He ran a paw through his red frills and licked his muzzle.

This had to be impossible...

Anxious, he padded around and he tried to locate another doorway but didn't find anything other than armour and weapons. Well, there was always the exit behind...

Nope, that had vanished.

Roland wanted to tear the horns right from his cranium. His worries proven true, he started glancing worriedly around the room. His breathing started to come irregularly; his heart pounded as if it wanted to smash out of his ribcage. Was he going to be trapped here forever? No... this had to be a trick. All some stupid hallucination!

As his eyes fearfully scanned the room, he looked up and was a immediately relieved to find a trapdoor. His rapid heartbeat slowed as he took a moment to recuperate from the unease.

He stretched before pouncing upwards, his wings beating furiously. Crashing into the door horns first, he shot up into another room and landed in a heap.

Roland grimaced as he got up. This room was exceptionally small – he struggled to even spin around – and dark. But right there, within the blackness, was a staircase that led downwards. This seemed strange because the armoury was under him. Or maybe this house was still defying physics? That was probable...

He paced down the stairs. Each one creaked but unlike the staircase back in the tavern, or even back in Darryl's cottage, they weren't loud. Instead they had an ominous feel, echoing quietly with each step he took. This was supposed to be a robbery but it was already not feeling like one.

The stairwell grew to be quite large and it felt like forever before he finally finished the dark descent. He couldn't tell where he was because of the darkness. There was something hard, like stone, beneath his claws and there was a mysterious humming in the distance that showed him the way forward. He had no choice but to follow it.

Maybe he could turn back? This seemed like it was more trouble than it was worth.

But he knew he'd gone too far to give up now. Would the rooms even let him go? He wanted to collect what he came for before he tried. One less trip up and down those steps was good enough for him.

He used his horns to feel around for walls but not once did he run into anything. It almost felt like there were none at all. Still, he followed the bizarre humming. A few minutes of treading through the darkness it turned into something more, like that of voices.

Roland wasn't alone anymore.

They were chanting something incomprehensible. Even if the voices could be heard, the speakers could not be seen. Roland wouldn't be surprised if they were invisible.

Just when he thought he wouldn't run into the wall, he did exactly that. The pathway seemed to narrow into a long, cramped hallway. There was a bright orange light at the other end of tunnel which shocked him. Maybe that was where the voices were coming from?

His suspicions were proven true when he moved towards the light. As he kept getting closer, he heard something hitting the floor in a constant loop. He gulped down a ball of fear before continuing.

He was horrified when he saw what was within that room.

The hooded figures... They were back.

There were ten of them, all just as freaky as each other. They were gathered around a statue of a dragon covered in small, gaping holes and painted with a strange shade of crimson...

His breathing intensified when he realised it wasn't a statue. The corpse of a freshly slain dragon was being displayed before him.

He noticed the livid words they were chanting a moment later, smashing their sticks into the floor in a rhythm.

 _"Fire, burn..._

 _Your power, we yearn..."_

 _"Our lord, Drevon..._

 _Come back to your brethren..."_

A cold shiver coursed up Roland's trembling body. Was this a sacrifice? And he'd heard that same name yet again. This was too horrifying to be real. It was all in his head, wasn't it? All his stupid imagination...

But the more he looked at the horrifying sights before him, the more he realised how real the situation was. This wasn't some sick prank. It wasn't just another horrific picture within his mind... This really was happening; he couldn't deny it, as much as he wanted to.

He'd thought a while back that this supposed robbery was more trouble than it was worth; he now knew that for a fact. But he had to keep moving forward. He wanted to help Lando and this was the only way to do it. His paws shaking out of fear, he scuttled around the robed figures, trying his best to not be seen. Fortunately, he succeeded but he didn't feel very accomplished. This was all too much...

What he was supposed to be looking for wasn't far up the next hallway. Torchlight revealed a locked safe. It didn't look too difficult to open but his shaky paws wouldn't make it easier.

He instantly started fiddling with the combination lock, wanting nothing more than to grab what he'd been seeking and escape. It didn't take long, despite his shakiness, and the door swung open with a low creak.

Of course, there was a bag of jewels there but something came tumbling out of the safe, worsening the terror he felt. The skull of one of his own kin...

Roland didn't even stop to stare at it, snatching the bag and sprinting as swiftly as his paws would allow him. He was done with this place; a normal burglary had quickly turned into one of the worst nights of his life.

Much to his dismay, he was halted by the cultists from earlier. There sticks had turned into spears that they pointed angrily at him and their deep, demonic voices laughed at him. He put his paws to the sides of his head and yelled at them.

" _Stop_!" he cried before charging directly at them, trembling in fear. He was shocked when they seemingly vanished as he passed through them but sharp stabbing pains rocketed up his body. He yelled out, feeling as if blood was seeping from his scales.

He glanced nervously at his body and was surprised to realise there were no injuries inflicted on him. But the agony was still there...

When the horrifying laughter continued again, he instantly started his quick run again

He tripped up the stairs so many times, battering his already quivering frame. Roland didn't care; all that mattered was making his escape. That sadistic chuckling kept resounding within his mind, attempting to destroy whatever sanity he may have left. He was afraid that exactly that was happening.

Reaching the top step, he crashed through the trapdoor again and found himself in the armoury. He didn't glance around the room but he got the feeling they were tracing his every move, only adding to how horrible he was feeling.

A doorway had seemingly reappeared but he didn't question it. What was there to question anymore? This place was breaking reality itself.

It led straight to entry hall and the 'T' section, which he was joyful to see. This was it. He could get out. He placed his quavering foot on the handle and gave it a sharp turn to the right.

The door didn't budge... It wasn't locked either, just incapable of moving. Roland put his full body weight against it and tried to force it with all the might he could muster.

"Come on!" he pleaded, his voice cracking. "O-Open up!"

From somewhere, someone spoke up. He was shocked to hear such a voice.

"Oh, Roland..." they exclaimed. "Whatever is the matter?"

Roland immediately turned. "W-What-"

"You know who I am..." they cut him off. Roland was shocked at what he saw.

A dragon... Strange metallic plating covered their frame and their eyes glowed a bright white.

This was Drevon. But now they were here in the flesh.

"You're but a mere nobody in this situation," they boomed venomously. The words made Roland back up against the door, stunned. "What are you doing here, Roland? What are you doing with your life?"

He couldn't come up with a response. The words just wouldn't roll off of his tongue.

"Are you trying to stop my revenge?" Drevon asked angrily, striding closer to the red dragon. "Is that what you think you'll do?"

Roland tried his hardest but he was just too afraid to speak up.

"I pity you, Roland. But you'll be the last face I think of when I strike."

He was especially worried about the next few words he released.

"The last thing I think of when Warfang _burns_..."

Roland began to smash himself against the door in attempt to break out, worsening the pain he was feeling. Drevon laughed at his miserable attempt to escape; a cruel and malicious tone.

He backed off and shouted noisily only to rapidly charge into the door's frame. Unexpectedly, it careened open as soon as his horns gave it the slightest touch and he stumbled over again.

"There is no escape."

Quickly scrambling to his feet, he took off into the darkness and left the building and Drevon behind, the laughter with it. He furiously flapped his wingspan, getting back to the tavern as swiftly as possible. The tears forming in his eyes were about to fall.

He was shivering violently and his breathing was a mess of quick gasps before he swung open the door. Lando was there to greet him and was even wearing a huge, cheesy grin. It didn't do anything at all to help Roland's mood.

"Hey, lad! You're-" he tried to say but was interrupted when Roland took the sack of gems and shoved it forcefully into the mole's chest. Without even stopping to hear what anyone in the tavern would usher, he dashed up the steps, entered his room and shut the door with a reverberating bang.

Almost immediately, he leaped into his bed and curled up. The droplets started to trickle out of his eyes. One low, uncontrollable sob broke out of his muzzle.

Being mocked like that, the petrifying corpse of a dragon, Drevon's words filling his mind with an unceasing feeling of dread. He'd seen disgusting things before but this?

This was just too much.

Warfang _burning_? What did they mean? He didn't want to see the city burn. He would hate to see someone like Ashlyn turn to ashes before his very eyes.

The dream from earlier... Would it be true?

Roland didn't care anymore. He was too hurt, scared and depressed to give a damn. The tears flowed in an unending river; another cry slipped from his maw.

There was a quiet knock on the door. He immediately froze up, going silent.

"Roland? You in there?" Ashlyn's voice came from the other side. "I heard a bang..."

He didn't know what to say. What could he say? Maybe he could just wait for her to disappear?

"Hey?" She knocked on the door again. "Roland?"

What he'd thought earlier seemed like a viable option. He didn't want to see anybody in a state like this. But Ashlyn didn't know that and what she said next shocked him.

"I'm coming in, okay?"

The door swung open and he stared wide-eyed at the dragoness who entered his room, tears still wetting his face. She returned the surprised expression.

"R-Roland?"

He wiped a paw over his eyes and tried to sound nonchalant; his shaky tone made it difficult. "H-Hey..."

"Oh my- Ancestors," she exclaimed, clearly startled, "what happened?"

"N-Nothing!" He kept trying to deny anything was wrong. Little did he know that the evidence was marked all over his body.

"You're _covered_ in stab wounds!" she yelled at him before lowering her voice. "And... you're crying..."

What? He looked down at himself to see that she was telling the truth. He looked just like the corpse from earlier...

Roland felt nauseous after thinking that. His vision started to blur and swirl as he heard Ashlyn cry out his name once more. He felt himself blacking out.

* * *

"Can you hear me?" a voice said. Roland's eyes shot open to an orange light that blinded him. He rubbed his eyes as he attempted to find out what was going on.

"Young one?" it called to him again. He recognised the tone as Edna's.

Roland groaned as a sudden pain filled his insides, like knives slashing at his scales. His vision focused and the brightness softened into a warm torchlight. Edna was standing directly beside him, a scarlet crystal in hand.

"W-What happened?" Roland asked wearily.

"You passed out on your bed covered in blood, dear." The doctor smiled, a little strange considering the circumstances he was under. "Might you explain what happened before that?"

The memories came rushing back. He sat up and put his head in his paws. About to retell the previous events, he opened his mouth but he was interrupted by the door creaking open.

Ashlyn came wandering inside with Lando in tow. "I heard someone speak. Is he-"

"Yes, yes," she said happily, "he's okay."

"Oh, jeez. What the _heck_ , Roland?" She stormed angrily towards him. "What happened?"

"I-I, uh..." Roland was confused.

"Who in the Ancestors' name _stabbed_ you like that? There was blood _everywhere_! All over the tavern, smothered all over your bed! And not to mention-"

"Calm down, lass," Lando said firmly. Ashlyn looked as if she was about to bring up something else but backed off, a little irritated. "Give the boy a bit o' space."

Roland glanced at everyone within the area. The dragoness and the innkeeper both appeared to be worried but Edna was just grinning ear to ear, joyous about doing her work well.

"Now, lad," Lando said softly, "what happened back there?"

Roland was still befuddled and very much in pain but he told them of everything he remembered about the horrible situation he'd been forced into; the mansion moving around him, the robed people and the frightening verse they'd repeated, and of Drevon and its plan to _make Warfang burn_. Just speaking of the events caused him to shiver in fright.

"You sound like you've seen some stuff, lad." Lando frowned, weirded out by his story.

Roland still felt scared stiff of the events but now that he was safe, he thought he might make light about the circumstances. "Tell me about it..."

"Gee, I'm sorry for sendin' you out there," the innkeeper apologised. Roland only looked at himself. The wounds from before were gone, probably mended by the spirit gems Edna was holding.

"Can you move?" Ashlyn asked from the corner of the room. When he peered at her, he was still able to see her tiredness. It was starting to get on his nerves, as if she was depriving herself of sleep on purpose.

"Only one way to find out." He decided to ignore her exhaustion for now. He could worry about that later.

He climbed out of the bed. The pain started to vanish as soon as he started moving; he thought it may have only been a cramp.

Roland took a few steps and found that he was fine, if a bit shaky on the legs. "I'm okay..."

"Can you meet me in my room? I need to talk to you..." Ashlyn asked. Roland nodded, frowning slightly. It seemed serious. With that, Ashlyn walked unhurriedly out of the office.

"Well, kiddo," Lando spoke to him, "at least you got what you went for. That bag was rich..."

Roland could agree with that but it was tough to think it was actually worth the toll it'd taken on him. That sickening image was unmoving. Burned into his mind. Every time he pondered too much, he wanted to throw up the contents of his stomach. It was usually dreadful; a vast amount of blood red holes littered the body of a green dragon. However, it got worse sometimes... Eyes were removed, sometimes even limbs...

Roland yearned for nothing more than to forget everything he'd witnessed, including this thought train. But he was intelligent enough to know that something such as that occurrence was going to haunt his mind him forever. Nothing would cure that.

"You should probably go and see to that girl, dear," Edna recommended. He couldn't concur more; anything to get his thoughts off of those events was good enough for him.

"I'll do that. Thanks, Edna." Roland paced out the door and headed up the unbearably creaky steps. He actually kind of missed the sound they made after being out. Before he went through to the upper floor, he gazed around the tavern. He was astonished nobody was there. Maybe they were out doing jobs as well? Hopefully they were better off than him.

He went towards the open doors of Ashlyn's room and padded inside. "Hey, Ash..."

"Roland," she said his name. She was situated right in the centre of the room and stared into his eyes.

"Y-Yeah?" he raised a brow, wanting to know the reason he was here.

"Is what you said true?" she questioned him. He nodded in response, confirming the things he'd seen. Ashlyn's gaze fell towards the floorboards. "I should've went with you..."

Roland sighed quietly. "I was okay..."

"Okay? _Okay?_ What are you on about?" she growled at him, her expression changing suddenly to one of anger. "By the looks of it, you were almost _killed_ in there!"

He shuddered at her harsh tone. "Well, maybe not okay..."

"Don't joke around with me, Roland." Ashlyn took a quick step towards him.

"Lighten up a little, Ash... It wasn't that bad." He lied in attempt to help her angry mood but Ashlyn only glared at him.

"A _corpse_ isn't that bad to you? Either you're lying or something's seriously wrong up there, Roland." She motioned towards her mind. He huffed at the remark.

"Well, it's not like you-" Roland was about to say something horrible because of the way she was speaking to him but realised his error just in time. Calling her a flat out murderer again certainly wasn't needed, especially now.

"What was that?" She scowled at him. Thankfully, she didn't seem to realise what he was about to exclaim.

"N-Never mind... Just... I'm fine now, Ashlyn. That's all that matters."

"Roland..." Ashlyn tried to reinforce her previous statements but he ended up cutting her off. He took one step forward, his face now only inches from hers.

"I'm _fine_ ," he stated firmly, "it's okay."

He gazed into her eyes. When he was this close to her, he could see just how weary she was. The white was shot with blood and her usually deep crimson irises were incredibly pale, almost a light scarlet in colour. Despite how dense her scales were, there were dark black rings beneath her tired eyes. His worry for her only grew.

Roland backed up slightly. Ashlyn was left staring into the ground once more, unable to say anything.

"Get some sleep, okay?" he suggested before smiling weakly at her. "There's no use worrying over me."

And with that, he slowly paced back to his own room. He took one final glance at Ashlyn before seeing her wander off to her bed. He smirked once more before heading off to his own.

Tonight had been the longest of all nights. And when he woke up the next day, he wished the things he'd overheard weren't true.

His story would only get worse...


	9. The Devastator

The Devastator

"Roland! Wake up!"

Roland's tired eyes quickly opened at the sound of Ashlyn's loud voice. He found himself staring into a pair of pale red eyes.

"W-Wha-" he tried to get a few words out but he was stopped when the dragoness suddenly hauled him onto the floor. He was about make an angry response but a damp feeling on the ground made him cast his gaze downwards.

He was befuddled when he realised what he was laying on; a thin layer of quickly melting snow. A sheet of ice covered the roof above him, liquefying and sending small droplets plummeting towards the floor.

It soon became apparent that Ashlyn had just iced over his entire room.

"We've got to go, Roland." Ashlyn tried to be calm but her voice quivered in fright. Apart from being totally bewildered, he was pretty mad at her

"Is this a jo-" he tried to say before being cut off by a deafening blast that came from outside. He went wide-eyed as he swiftly got himself off of the snowy floor. "W-What was that?"

"You'll see; come on!" Ashlyn barged into his closed door; it almost careened off of its hinges. Without another word, he sprinted out of his room.

He was able to reach Ashlyn but he stopped his run and gaped at the dreadful sight that lay before him. The tavern had caught fire; its contents were going down in a blazing inferno.

"Ancestors!" The pungent stench of burning wood filled his nostrils as he choked on the fire's fumes, his voice becoming a wheeze. "What happened?"

"I dont-" Ashlyn coughed heavily. "I d-don't know!"

A smouldering timber beam fell and crashed into the ground, penetrating the floorboards and leaving a gaping hole right where it had landed. The upper floor shook at the immense force.

Roland didn't just stand around; he tried to run for the steps but, unforeseen by him, piles of fiery wood littered them. There was no way he was escaping through that heap of blazing oak.

He spluttered before motioning towards the hole. "Down there!"

Ashlyn glanced worriedly at him before fitting herself through the sharp-looking opening. He followed but, being clumsy, a single scale was torn off his body on the hole's sharp edges. He winced before landing sloppily on the bottom floor.

Surprisingly, the one spot he landed on wasn't a burning heap of debris. The front door, however, was blocked up by yet another mound of wood. Roland was losing the breath he had left quickly; he gasped for air but that only worsened the effects of having hardly anything inside of his lungs.

He wasn't sure if he could make it out like this. The smoke was just too much for him to handle.

"Rol-" Ashlyn said, her voice strained. "On the count of three... we're going to fly into the door."

The red dragon cocked his head to the left, confused as to why she would want to injure herself. "W-Why?"

"J-Just... trust me." Roland still wasn't sure. Couldn't she just use her element to pave the way forward for them? Unless...

He peered at her and would've let out a rather angry sigh if not for the black plumes swirling around the room. She just kept on getting more exhausted with each passing day. In fact, she looked sickly... No wonder she couldn't use her powers anymore. Her last use was back in his room but she must've drained the last of her magical reserve on it...

And that was in an effort to protect him... Roland's heart skipped a beat.

He didn't have time to wonder anymore. Thanking her was something he could do later for the countdown had already begun.

"Three," Ashlyn said, her voice still hoarse from the fumes. Roland held the last of his breath in.

"Two." He lowered himself towards the floor, ready to leap into the air.

"One!"

Simultaneously, the two dragons jumped upwards and charged for the door. Roland leaned his horns in the door's direction, bracing for the impact.

There was an ear-piercing shatter as the seemingly flimsy door and the mound of smouldering timber exploded, sending chips and splinters all over the pavement.

Roland was hoping to clear his throat once he'd gotten outside but he wasn't able to do such a thing. He only expected the tavern to be alight.

Warfang was burning to the ground. Drevon's vile tone filled his mind.

 _You'll be the last thing I think of when I strike... The last thing I think of when Warfang burns._

It had all come true...

Another blast echoed from a spire in the distance. He watched as the stone structure toppled to the ground, sending shattered materials tumbling down the street.

What was worse was the horrible amount of death strewn across the slum. So many moles, so many dragons... He felt sick to the stomach when he noticed the lifeless body of a dragon his age. He recognised them from the tavern...

Ashlyn broke his concentration. "We need to go!" And with that, she shot powerfully into the sky.

He was about to follow her lead when a noisy thump sounded from above him, unlike the destruction of the buildings. He panicked when the dragoness started to fall out of the air.

"Ashlyn!" he yelled to her before bursting off the ground in pursuit of her motionless body. What had just happened?

Roland was extremely worried that he might completely miss Ashlyn. What if that happened? He couldn't bare to think about it.

To his great fortune, the dragoness landed right in his outstretched paws, but it did come at his own expense. The sudden weight drove him back towards the city and he struck the floor painfully. He did manage to stay on his own four feet but jarred them in the process.

That was the least of his concerns. Quickly but gently, he lowered her to the floor and tried to get her up.

"Ash!" he shouted at her. "Come on!"

She didn't respond.

He started to shake her unmoving body, starting to fear that she might be gone. But how? What had even happened to her?

But, as his breathing started to falter, his worries were settled when a low groan escaped her muzzle. He breathed a huge sigh of relief.

"Thank the Ancestors..." As her eyes opened, he handed her a paw. She gladly took it.

"Don't fly up there..." she exclaimed with a splutter, getting off of the ground. "There's something... _invisible_..."

"Invisible?" he questioned over the roaring flames, still a little frightened after that close call.

"Don't ask... Don't try..." She soon took off down the street. Roland was a little confused but followed her lead. He stayed very close to her, as if she would just vanish if he meandered too far away.

The two dashed down the street. He was able to catch a few short breaths but that small slither of energy was used rapidly in his hurried sprint.

He glanced up at the sky because it gave him something to do. It was dark and the stars that would generally shine down upon him were blotted out by smoke. There was, however, what looked like birds swirling around in the sky. No, they weren't birds...

Out of nowhere, a dreadwing swooped across the street. Ashlyn didn't seem to see it. It was holding a metal box of some kind...

 _Explosives_...

"Look OUT!" He barged into the dragoness and sent them both tumbling across the street. He quickly lifted himself from the ground and pulled her along as an eruption of flames turned the path they were just standing on to dust.

Roland used a wing to shield himself and Ashlyn from the few pebbles that were sent flying from the explosion. Ashlyn soon got up. She opened her maw and looked as if she was about to say something but decided not to. Amazingly, he'd saved her life twice in around a minute. He didn't mean to sound cocky, but he felt proud of himself.

He lost that pride when an ear-shattering screech tore into his mind. He shivered violently at the loud noise.

He was now wary of the flying death surrounding him. After a moment of recuperation, they sped across the streets of Warfang, now choosing to stay hidden. Roland didn't need another incident like that and he doubted he would be so lucky again.

After a few moments of running, he realised he didn't have a clue where they were going. "Where are we going?" he asked, if only to provide something resembling a conversation. It kept him sane, anyway.

"Front gate," she answered shortly. Ashlyn looked as if she was on the brink of blacking out and they weren't even halfway yet. He was astonished she was actually on her feet after all of this. And after she'd not rested for days on end too... He was going to talk to her later...

That was if he was capable of escaping this nightmare...

Eventually, the duo were on the main road in and out of Warfang, which happened to not be smoky; he gasped for the slightest amount of fresh air. Roland wasn't watching the ground – instead, he opted to look at the skies for signs dreadwings and he wasn't too surprised when he saw dozens of them sweeping the streets with explosives. Because of this, he tripped on the legs of a mole.

Fortunately, it wasn't Lando... The sight still made him gag; a mangled corpse charred by the bombardment.

When he reached the front gate, he almost lost all hope. There wasn't a way through; the entrance to the former dragon city was blocked by burning oak pillars and beams that'd set the door alight and huge piles of ruined stone.

"What do we do?" he asked, worried that their might not be an escape route.

Ashlyn immediately opened her maw to summon a blizzard but doing so achieved nothing. Nothing came out of her mouth; no ice and certainly no path to freedom. The dragoness doubled over, a groan slipping out of her mouth. Something caught his eye before he went to check on her; instead of the vibrant blue gemstone in her ring, it was dull and uninteresting... It looked as if it was measuring her power...

Roland shrugged it off as unimportant and helped the dragoness to her feet once more. "Are you alright?"

She let out a pained grunt. "N-No... I can hardly breathe..."

Soon enough, he realised there wasn't a way out. The only escape route was above the walls and he didn't think soaring over was a great idea, especially after the prior incident.

Still, it wasn't like he had much of a choice...

"I'm going to see if I can fly out," he told her.

"What? Are you crazy?" Ashlyn was shocked. "Didn't you just see what happened to me? There's also dreadwings everywhere! They could see you..."

"What should we do then? Do we sit around and wait for this fire to _burn_ us alive?" he replied, narrowing his eyes. The ice dragoness opened her mouth to respond but realised it was stupid arguing witword.

He lowered his body, tensing, before leaping into the sky so he could get over the wall. Unlike Ashlyn, he took it slowly as to not slam into this _invisible_ object. And nearing the wall, he started to become hopeful.

Unfortunately, Ashlyn was right about the object. He hit the thing with his skull before turning his gaze to see what it was.

Roland frowned when he saw the air itself warping and blurring before him. He whacked the thing with his horns again and the air shifted more violently in that one spot. It looked as if he was being halted by a barrier of some sorts.

This was bad... _Really_ bad...

The only other exit was the back gate but he knew that something would block their path and they'd have no way to circumvent the problem. Drevon would've made sure of that... Nobody was going to get out of this city.

All the inhabitants were probably dead now, anyway. Their bodies littered the streets as if they were thrown out garbage.

No... There had to be _somebody_! Not everyone could've died here... Where was Lando? Where was Edna? Were they safe? How about Seth, someone he'd almost completely forgotten about? Where had _he_ been for the past few days? The onslaught of questions were endless.

What made this problem worse was the dreadwings. Not in the way they were destroying the city, but how they were capable of zipping right through the magical barrier. How was that even possible? It frustrated him to no end.

He made his way back towards the ground to tell Ashlyn of his discovery after stopping the train of thoughts. "There's some kind of barrier," he said. Ashlyn looked to ground, completely defeated.

"That's it then," she exclaimed. "We're as good as dead."

Roland didn't want to believe that but it was too true. What other way out was there? The encroaching fires only got closer... Maybe, just maybe, they could wait out the siege... But there weren't many places to hide and he was expecting every nook and cranny to be blown to smithereens at some point.

There was a sudden explosion and shriek from above that made Roland jump in fright. He tried to find the sound's origin but his vision failed him. He didn't have much time to dodge the stone column careening towards him...

That was when a powerful force knocked him across the pavement.

At first, he thought it was Ashlyn but she'd dived by herself. He turned around and was dumbfounded by what he was peering at.

How did _he_ , of every creature in the world, get to Warfang? How did _he_ save him like that?

Darryl's always there at the perfect moment.

"D-Darryl?" Roland was about to faint at the sight of him. He could hardly believe he was there. "I-Is that-"

"Yes, it is me." Darryl bowed slightly. He looked rather unfazed by the explosions decimating the city around him, but he was smothered in soot and bleeding cuts. "I could never foresee finding you here, Roland, let alone alive... It looks as if everyone's... you know..."

Roland's maw still gaped but instead of standing around, he walked up to Darryl and immediately pulled him into a tight hug with his paws. He didn't care what anyone thought of him.

"Oh, um..." Darryl was surprised by the gesture. He awkwardly patted him on the back with a hoof. "It's... good to see you..."

There was silence for a long while. No explosions and the screaming terrors soaring across Warfang seemed to stop the noise for just that moment. It was peaceful...

"You can stop now, you sook." Darryl said, receiving a snicker from the red dragon.

"Thank you..." Roland muttered before pulling away. If there was anybody he knew that could get them out of such a terrible situation, it had to be Darryl. He'd been able to save his life before and he was certainly going to do it again.

"You're very welcome," he exclaimed. "We should take shelter. I know a place..." He motioned for them to follow and the two dragons didn't hesitate before doing just that.

As they ran along with him, the bombings and shrieking picked up once more. Roland tried to not let the constant sight of dead bodies faze him, but he was unsuccessful. Every mutilated corpse added to the sickening feeling inside him.

He looked over to Ashlyn. There was a new expression on her features that seemed more prominent than the rest. Was it... guilt? He wasn't too sure, but just seeing her like this was depressing. In fact, she looked as if she was on the verge of tears. After every ordeal she'd been through, after all the pain she'd endured throughout her time in the dragon city, he didn't blame her one bit. Ashlyn caught him staring at her before he quickly glanced away; if not for the scales that covered his face, the embarrassment would clearly show.

Still, as he'd thought earlier, he was going to have a talk to her. He sounded like a parent, sure, but he'd been constantly worried about her from the very start of their time in Warfang. From the confrontation with Seth to the sleep she'd not yet had, he had a vast amount of things to say to her.

Was she worried about something? Was there something she wasn't telling him? He couldn't be certain.

He and his companions reached the spot he was talking about – an incline in the Warfang wall. It was rather close to the former city's gate. The trio jumped in, somewhat safe from the bombs that hit the ground like explosive raindrops.

Before following Darryl, he glanced outside one more time. As expected, the whole city was either up in flames or ruined by the dreadwings. There was one thing that seemed to be intact but he couldn't quite make out what it was. It was long and looked like a bunch of little conjoined houses. He lifted a single brow before turning his gaze back to the events at hand.

"We should be fine now." The deer went around a bend and came to a small room. There was a nice table with a lit candle on top of it, a few barrels and some books were stacked neatly in the corner, strangely unshaken even after the terrible eruption of bombshells outside. It looked as if Darryl had set this place up so he could stay for a little while. His plans had obviously been ruined...

"So..." Roland started, talking over the muffled screaming outside. "What are we going to do? Are we just going to wait for all of this to end?"

"No, no..." Darryl responded, shaking his head. "The creatures would eventually locate us. They're most likely going to begin the clean-up soon. Being dreadwings, they won't forget to check here..."

"So... what?" He frowned. What else could they possibly do? He believed in the deer, but how in the world was he supposed to come up with a plan for them to escape this mess? He did expect the deer to have an answer, though.

"There's an engine, a train, outside just over there," he explained, taking a good, longing look at the books in the corner. "I figured we could use that to break free of this city."

Roland was a little confused by those two words. "Break free? What do you mean? Unless..."

"That's correct." Darryl grinned. "We ram it into the wall and we escape. That magical barrier won't hold the force of the Warfang Express."

"You can't be serious..." Roland looked over to Ashlyn but instead of talking about how she felt of the plan, she sat in complete silence. No words came from her soot-stained maw. The only thing she seemed to be communicating right now was just how miserable she was... Roland sighed quietly in her direction before gazing back at the deer. "That's really your plan?"

"Do you have a superior proposal?" Darryl rolled his eyes. Roland realised that there wasn't a better option.

"No..." He ran a paw through his frills, a little irritated that this was his only choice. Well, it wasn't like he had much to lose if this plan was unsuccessful. He would be fortunate to die a death where his limbs weren't splayed across the streets of the blazing city...

But that was a falsehood. He had friends to lose if he was gone. People like Lando and Ashlyn... Maybe even Seth would care a little if he found him like that? Roland shivered at his dark thoughts before turning towards Darryl again.

"Well, I guess it's settled," the deer said unusually happily. He appeared to like being right about things. "Let's get a move on."

Roland hesitated slightly before running out with the deer once more. He wished he could've stayed a little while longer, resting in the peacefulness. But it wasn't like that was bound to happen...

He walked a little further before noticing Ashlyn wasn't behind him. "One second, Darryl," he said before treading back inside the incline.

"Ashlyn?" He glanced over at her. She hadn't moved from her position and was staring blankly into the wall. Her scarlet eyes seemed to shine in the faint candlelight the room was enveloped in. "Are you coming?"

Ashlyn instantly broke out of her peculiar trance. "Oh, um... yeah," she said sheepishly before briskly passing him. He was befuddled by her weird behaviour but followed her out, deciding to disregard it for now.

They both caught up with Darryl who then yelled over the violent detonations. "What kept you?"

"Doesn't matter," Roland replied swiftly. He got a sceptical glance from the deer before he beckoned them to follow.

"It's just over there." Darryl started to gallop towards the engine. "Not far to go now!"

Roland could see it now. It was bulky and looked fit for a war. What Warfang was planning to do with it was unknown to him but it didn't matter. It wasn't like anyone was going to be operating it now.

As he got closer, he noticed more things about its appearance. It was made of a thick black steel and it was completely sealed up. There were weird mechanisms he recognised as turrets across the many carriages it had. The train looked as if it could fall into a ravine and everyone inside would still be uninjured.

Maybe he was overestimating the design somewhat? The moles' inventions were beautifully designed and as strong as diamonds. But would it really take the punishment from a dense stone wall _and_ a magical barrier? He wasn't too sure.

His concentration was always broken by sudden noises and this time it was no different. There was a yell that echoed through the streets but, dissimilar to a dreadwing's scream, it sounded more natural.

Like the cry of a dragon...

He looked everywhere and couldn't seem to find where it'd came from. But, when he looked over at a shattered spire, something met his eyes that surprised him. Almost more so than Darryl's sudden reappearance.

Seth was calling out, stuck underneath a thick wooden beam. He looked like he was in agony.

Roland briskly ran over without bothering to tell Darryl. He could catch up with him later.

"Seth?" Roland glanced down at him. So far, he was the only dragon apart from himself and Ashlyn that happened to be alive and somewhat well. If he was being honest with himself, he wasn't sure if that was a good thing...

"Yeah, it's me, Roland," the brown dragon said. "Get me out of here..."

"Not until you say please." Roland grinned slightly.

"This isn't a time for jokes! Hurry up!" Seth yelled at him, teeming with anger already. Roland shook his head before forcing the timber beam off of Seth's body. He wasn't surprised Seth couldn't get it off himself; it was definitely hefty. Then again, he was astonished he was able to...

"Thank you..." Seth rolled his eyes before running over to the engine. He apparently already knew about the plan...

The sound of another bomb reverberated across the streets and Roland scrambled back to the Warfang Express.

"Who's he?" Darryl questioned, giving a funny look to the new arrival.

"Seth... We can chat about this later." Roland responded. The deer gave a slight nod before speedily boarding the closest carriage. Roland, followed closely by Ashlyn and Seth, went with the deer.

Now on the steel train, he looked around. It wasn't filled with seats – he almost expected that to be the case, considering what kind of engine it was – but equipment. Things like blades, guns and their respective ammunition were all up against the wall. Other than that, it was unpainted and a little bland.

Because none of the war apparatus was practical for him, he continued to follow Darryl. He would love to wield a firearm to make up for his lack of breath, but the stubby fingers on his paws made doing that uncomfortable and almost impossible.

He went through another carriage and then another before they all reached the main compartment of the train. A set of complex controls were up against the front, a box that looked somewhat like a hearth lay left of it.

"Okay..." Darryl peered at the mechanism that lay in front of him, bewildered by the sheer amount of buttons and levers. He looked back at Seth. "You, new guy. You can cut the engine off from the carriages..."

"Um, alright," Seth agreed, befuddled by a deer giving him instructions. He went out of the compartment.

"Roland, fire this train up," Darryl commanded. Roland tilted his head.

"With... what?"

Darryl frowned. "This engine clearly takes dragon fire, Roland..."

"Uh..." Roland glanced at the steel floor. "I don't have an element..."

Darryl's frown continued to slope downwards. "You don't have an element? What are you talking about? You're a dragon, yes?"

"Yes, but I-" Roland was interrupted by the deer.

"Well, there's a coal carriage back there," Darryl stated. "Go take some of the coal from there." Roland nodded before exiting the control room. Before he left to fulfil his task, he heard the deer speaking to the dragoness inside.

"And you, Ashlyn. You can..." He stopped for a second, as if in thought. "You can wait here with me."

Roland could agree with that. She had obviously been through enough and she looked completely exhausted as is. It was about time she took a break.

Roland clambered to the top of the train and gazed down at the row of train carriages. Only a couple from the main compartment was the coal storage Darryl was talking about, deep and filled to the brim with the black substance. All he had to do was grab it.

He leaped across each carriage and it didn't take long before he was standing on top of it. He was about to grasp it in his paws but an unforeseen explosion nearby shook the train and him off of it.

Quickly, he clasped the edge and, with a slight groan, hoisted himself back up. That bomb was incredibly close and he wasn't sure how the dreadwings managed to miss something as large as the Warfang Express. It became apparent that the train wouldn't be so lucky next time.

After collecting the coal, he soared back towards the engine room. A weird sound, like grinding metal, echoed from below him. Seth had probably just unconnected the carriages from their main compartment.

Roland entered the room and Darryl motioned towards the firebox. He watched as the dark material plummeted into the depths of the furnace, almost like an abyss of sorts. They did hit the bottom, though; it sounded like a metallic drum from the inside.

They suddenly burst into flames when Darryl threw a smouldering match inside. How he got a match alight was beyond him. "Good work. Now... I've just got to get this engine running."

As Seth entered the room, Darryl glanced at the controls. Another muffled bang resounded from the outside.

"Better hurry, deer," Seth said. Darryl shushed him.

"That's Darryl to you, pest." Roland chuckled at the deer's words.

Soon, the deer located a long lever and pushed it forwards. The train lurched violently but it actually moved. They were moving! Roland grinned joyfully.

"Now we've just got to hop off and..." There was a slam from the other side of the door. Darryl raised a brow and twisted the handle.

It wouldn't budge...

Darryl barged into the iron door but it still didn't want move. They were stuck in a moving train...

And they were trying to _crash_ it...

"Let me." Seth wandered over and Darryl was almost forced out of the way by him. The brown dragon opened his muzzle and charged a blast of concentrated earth. A loud eruption of green light careened out of his maw.

But it didn't do a single thing to destroy the door.

There came another blast. And then another. There were many before Seth stopped, puffing relentlessly. With a choke, he said three words.

"Stop this train..."

From a small window inside the engine, they could see the wall approaching rapidly. There wouldn't be time to halt the engine.

"I'd suggest you all brace yourselves for impact," Darryl exclaimed.

There was nothing to hide under, nothing that could give him a chance at living. This was it.

Of course, there was no escape from Drevon...

And the train smashed through the wall and its magical barrier, going up in one last, huge explosion.

* * *

"R-Roland... wake up..." a feminine voice said shakily.

Roland heard the voice clearly and he wanted to open his eyes. But he was in so much pain... His body refused to move and even his mouth declined to speak back.

"Roland... Please..." she exclaimed, her breathing trembling violently. He felt himself being shaken gently.

"Come on!" she screamed out at him. He felt something hit his chest forcefully. Something wet slithered across his torso.

It felt like a teardrop...

His eyes slowly opened up. A small splutter escaped his muzzle.

He noticed the thing on top of him; Ashlyn's paw was right on top of his heart. She was staring down at him, teary-eyed and shocked. She instantly wiped a paw across her eyes to get rid of the wetness.

"I..." Ashlyn didn't seem to be able to say a thing to the miraculous sight before her. Roland was about to greet her before she quickly stepped off of him. This time, she tried to respond as nonchalantly as possible. "You're alive."

"H-Hey..." Roland said, his voice strained. He could see the tears welling up in Ashlyn's eyes again but she rubbed them away just as quickly.

There was quietness for a long while as he just laid in that position. He noticed they were in a cavern of some sorts...

Soon enough, he got off the floor. He could hear Ashlyn's breaths becoming more rapid as time progressed.

"Are you okay?" Roland asked, concerned. Ashlyn swiftly replied with a nod. She was still holding back her teardrops.

He didn't believe her for a second. Slowly, he advanced towards her. She didn't seem to notice him, too busy studying a rock on the floor. She was obviously trying to distract herself from him...

He sighed quietly before wrapping a wing around her back. She did tense up after feeling him there but he felt her relax rather quickly. Ashlyn wasn't able to hold her emotions back for much longer.

They sat there for the longest of times. Ashlyn was silent but he could see the teardrops coursing down her face.

Never had he seen Ashlyn cry like this before...


	10. A Goodbye

A Goodbye

"I... I can't believe it..." Darryl responded, wide-eyed, as Roland walked up to him. Ashlyn had shown him the path back to the shocked deer and Seth a little while after his awakening. "I thought you'd perished in that crash..."

From what Ashlyn had explained on the way back, his survival was a miracle. A thick shard of iron had broken off the train and pierced his chest. To his amazing fortune, it had narrowly missed his heart. He wasn't fatally wounded, at least, but his torso still ached with a fierce pain.

He was glad to still be alive. The intense agony was only a small price to pay for his life.

"I'm surprised myself," he said calmly. Seth rolled his eyes but even he looked astonished to see him standing there.

"Where were you?" the brown dragon asked, a little irritated. "We had to look everywhere..."

"In the firebox, believe it or not," Ashlyn answered for him, a small chuckle slipping out of her muzzle. Roland felt like she forced the laugh, though.

"Why didn't I look there?" Darryl questioned himself, playing along with Ashlyn's attempt at a jest. He seemed as if he could tell something was wrong as well. Roland was thankful he wasn't the only one.

The red quadruped felt something wet plummet onto the tip of his snout. There was a crack of thunder before raindrops started to quickly soak the ground.

Darryl happened to already be sitting against a large oak. Roland paced towards the deer, as did Ashlyn, and took a position under the dense branches above him. With nothing to do for now, he took to staring into the distance.

The former dragon city, Warfang, was still just as fiery as ever and dreadwings were still swooping around it, dropping explosive crates on whatever they so desired. But Warfang was only a distant spec on the skyline now. They'd moved pretty far from all the death and destruction.

Roland decided to start a conversation. He usually enjoyed gazing at the sights, but the area around him was particularly drab. Plus, he had a rather important question on his mind.

"Where have you been, Seth?" he asked, glancing over at him. The earth dragon tensed up immediately.

"What's it to you, no-breath?" Seth retorted. Roland ignored the name-calling.

"You've been gone for several days." Roland cast a curious glance at him. "People don't just vanish, Seth."

"I'm not talking about it," he replied firmly.

Roland shook his head in annoyance. "Really?"

Seth only glared at him. The red dragon sighed. If he wasn't going to obtain an answer from him, maybe he could figure it out himself by looking at him... Lando seemed to be able to do that.

The only thing Roland got from Seth's appearance, however, was just how injured he looked. There were tiny cuts covering his tan brown chest plate and multiple scales had been ripped right off his body. His eye still wasn't there, but the angry red from earlier had calmed down and been replaced by a dark, empty hole.

He would've thought the siege on Warfang had such effects on his body, but the wounds weren't very fresh. In fact, they looked several days old. Of course, Roland certainly wasn't an expert on injuries...

If his theory was true, then where had he been for the past few days? The last place he'd seen him was back in Old Maiden's... Roland wasn't able to work it out...

"So..." Darryl spoke up, "what now?"

He didn't have a single clue. Roland _was_ planning on staying in Warfang for a while, but look at it now...

"I'm... not sure..." Ashlyn muttered. Seth shrugged slightly.

Roland watched the rain fall for a while. The sky was illuminated by spasmodic blasts of lightning, followed by the strong echo of heavy thunder. Rain drizzled through the leaves of the oak he sat under; some managed to break free of the foliage above, dripping quickly onto the grass below his paws.

Despite the noisiness of the storm, he felt at peace. The pain that flared across his body started to subside as his mind went blank. He didn't feel himself go to sleep.

* * *

Roland woke up at nightfall, a little bizarre as he'd nodded off at practically the same time. He quickly came to realise that he'd slept for an entire day. Yesterday's events must've made him weary...

He glanced at the things surrounding him. By now, Warfang had stopped burning; that orange dot on the skyline had disappeared completely. The storm had, for the most part, ceased as well. There was the occasional droplet, but it was negligible.

He was still curled up around the thick oak tree but none of his companions were there with him. Ashlyn and Darryl were sitting together on the edge of a cliff side that faced the open ocean. Seth was doing who knows what by himself, instead choosing to gaze at the now non-existent city. Maybe he was keeping watch? Maybe they all were? He felt a little guilty for not taking part.

As Roland had only just managed to notice, the dragoness and deer were looking out to sea, chatting away about things that were incoherent to him. Beyond the oceans lay Tall Plains, and even further than that would probably be Mushroom Swamp and the archaic Dragon Temple. Roland grinned to himself, now feeling proud that he knew his geography...

In fact, thinking about Tall Plains gave him an idea...

He remembered the conversation between two visitors back in the tavern. The jungle across the waves apparently held a rare, powerful artefact. An artefact that could grant the wishes of its user...

Those were very greedy thoughts... But they were a possibility. Maybe that's what he could devote his time to? It was huge challenge, but an attainable one.

He saw Ashlyn pace over. As per usual, she looked depressed. But there was something different about her expression. He couldn't quite make out what it was. Soon after her, Darryl walked up as well, casting one final glance out to the sea.

Neither of them said anything other than a quick 'hey'. Ashlyn proceeded to lay on the grass, watching the stars, and Darryl swiftly fell asleep. He cast a confused glance at the ice dragoness; she didn't see it, however.

He still needed to talk to her... But right now wasn't the time. Maybe when she was a little more... alone? That seemed reasonable. Whatever had been making her feel the way she did was probably another urgent thing she didn't want to tell anybody...

Roland felt himself becoming tired once more. Throughout that night he slipped in and out of consciousness, feeling tired yet not very at the same time. Something was setting him on edge and he wasn't too sure of what it was. A growl only a few hours later startled him...

* * *

"The hell is wrong with you?"

Roland noticed that a fight of some kind was ensuing. From what he could hear, Ashlyn and Seth were the main combatants.

"What? Aren't you a little suspicious?" Seth snarled angrily. "Deer's don't just talk!"

The red dragon frowned before looking over in the battle's direction. Seth was on one side, Ashlyn and the deer were on the opposite.

"I can assure you, Seth. I'm not a _spy_!" Darryl yelled. He didn't lose his calm very often.

Despite Seth's almost humorous accusation, Roland knew that he should probably intervene before things get more serious. He got up from his position in the grass and paced towards the squabbling.

"Who's to know that's not true?" Seth responded, growling. "You could just be saying that!"

"Seth, this is stupid and you know it!" Ashlyn glared at the brown dragon.

"Think about it. He just shows up in Warfang and he knows exactly how to get us out!" he continued. "Doesn't that seem suspicious?"

"I was in that city for a reason, Seth." Darryl narrowed his eyes. "I happened to come at the wrong time. And as for your silly accusation about me getting you out, I chose that because it was the only way out!"

"Lies! They're all-"

Roland yelled out. "Stop it! All of you!"

He expected them to continue fighting but everyone stared at him. Roland shrunk a little under their gaze but continued to speak.

"What is this even about? How is Darryl a spy?"

Seth chose to answer that one. "He's a _talking_ deer! What else do you want? Have you ever seen a talking deer?"

He rolled his eyes and was about to counter his stupid argument but Ashlyn beat him to it. "How is _that_ even a reason? Just because he's a little different doesn't mean he's our enemy!"

Roland was able to understand the brown dragon's suspicion and, again, was about to speak up but the deer joined in once more. "I saved your life and this is how you treat me? I should've _strapped_ you to that rail..."

"Was that a death threat?" Seth started to advance slowly towards the deer, his fangs bared. Ashlyn instantly halted his movement by pointing her sharp tail blade in his direction.

"Don't you dare..." Ashlyn growled. He turned his attention towards the dragoness.

"You want to fight me?"

"No, of course I don't... But if you even lay a claw on him..."

Roland was just staring, bewildered. This wasn't going to end well...

"Guys, come on!" he shouted. However, the two dragons didn't listen to him. Only Darryl, the victim here, ran over. Seth didn't bother chasing him down...

The brown dragon's actions towards Darryl were misguided. He didn't really have much of a motive to verbally attack him like that...

Unless he was lying about thinking he was a spy...

But, whilst in his thoughts, he was too late to stop the first physical attack... Seth lashed out with his claws; Ashlyn only barely dodged his slash.

"What is wrong with you?" Ashlyn said defensively. "I never did anything!"

Seth didn't say a single thing in return, putting his full focus on the dragoness ahead of him. Quickly, he took a swing at her with his club-like tail blade. Again, she just managed to dive out of the way.

"Seth... I don't want to hurt you..." the dragoness muttered. He didn't listen.

Roland thought this was getting out of hand. He took a step, about to interfere, when Darryl put a hoof up in front of him.

"Let them do this," he whispered. "She'll come out on top; it might serve a good lesson for him..."

Then he added something else. "I doubt they'll try to kill each other..."

With a low sigh, he reluctantly took a step back and watched the battle unfold. Ashlyn looked as if she was getting sick of slipping away from every lunge and slash. Seth wasn't very happy about missing so much.

Soon enough, Ashlyn decided to take a swing at him. Her tail blade connected with his torso. Seth winced but continued his assault, swinging his club overhead. It slammed into the ground right next to the dragoness.

She took that opportunity to stop him. While he was distracted, she dived towards him and pinned him to the ground.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked, growling.

"You don't need to know!" he yelled out, struggling to get free of her grip. He released a deafening blast of earth energy; Roland felt a ringing in his head. At that moment, Ashlyn cringed and her grip loosened...

That was when Roland knew she'd messed up.

With a strong kick, Seth managed to get the dragoness off of him. He quickly rolled and lifted his paw in a swift motion. Suddenly, the ground seemed to give way to a pillar of earth that quickly rose upwards.

And that column was directly underneath her body. She was sent hurtling into the sky.

Roland expected her to fly it off but when she hit the ground with a resounding thud, he knew she was done fighting. He gaped at the turn of events before him. Even Darryl looked shocked.

Seth seemed to forget the two watching him. He didn't say a word as he leaned over Ashlyn's unconscious body. And with an ear-shattering yell, he flew up into the sky and smashed his tail blade into her ribcage.

Roland gasped at the sight. He... He was going to kill her if he continued...

That was his plan all along, wasn't it?

Roland had already made his decision.

Ignoring Darryl's words, he charged towards Seth just as he was about to pummel her for the second and final time. He leaped upwards and brought his horns down on the brown dragon.

Now on the ground, he shouted noisily at him. "You _monster_! Are you trying to kill her?"

Seth snarled before easily throwing him off. Roland landed painfully on the top of his skull, his mind spinning.

The brown dragon started to advance towards him. Again, he didn't say much...

Roland glanced around as the brown dragon prepared to hit him with a mighty blast of magic. He noticed a long stick and, struggling, he grasped it within his paws and swung it quickly at Seth.

The dense branch connected with the dragon's muzzle. His earth magic was cut short as Roland took another swing at him. Again, it struck Seth heavily.

He threw the stick away, lowered his golden horns and charged him into the oak tree. Seth cried out in agony.

His breath trembling, Roland fit his jaw around the dragon's neck, still keeping him pinned against the tree. Roland felt a sudden wave of adrenaline roll over him.

"Roland! Don't you-" Seth tried to say something but screamed out when Roland violently bit down on his neck. Seth's blood slithered down his throat.

"What are you doing?" Seth's voice was strained but it still burst out as a yell. He tried to force the red dragon off of his neck. "You're not trying to kill me... are you?"

Roland only tightened his hold. Soon, however, Seth was able to push him away and swiftly followed up with another destructive explosion that sent him careening into a different tree.

He tried to get up but found Seth proceeding towards him yet again, no branch to save him this time. The earth dragon started to cut away at him with frenzied swipes of his claws. Roland felt himself blacking out...

But he wouldn't stop at that. He wasn't going to accept defeat.

Every ruthless strike only made him more hateful towards Seth. When he got the chance, he followed up with a punch as strong as he could muster to Seth's snout. He doubled over, buying Roland the chance he needed.

He reversed their positioning by taking Seth in his back legs and rolling over. He used his maw again to trap him there and, this time, used all of his bodyweight to keep him secured.

"Stop this, Roland!" He started to fight against Roland's hold.

He didn't listen to him.

Instead, he started to gnaw tightly on his scaly neck; Seth's movements started to become more desperate, but he wasn't able to escape the clutch he was in.

The crimson from Seth's body started to roll down his neck once more. It wasn't a great taste, but it didn't matter...

Roland wanted _nothing more_ than for this dragon to meet his demise.

"Roland! Come on..." Seth sounded like he was losing breath. "R-Roland..."

Seth's struggling started to slow down until it eventually came to a stop. "I-I'm... s-sorry..."

He heard the apology loud and clear but it didn't change his mindset. Instead, he bit down harder. Roland could feel Seth's neck collapsing in on itself.

"Please..." Seth's strained voice came. A single tear fell from his eye.

Roland didn't feel anything... Anything but hatred. There was no pity, no mercy, and, oddly enough, no anger. Just... hate.

Hate for the way he'd treated Darryl. Hate for him almost killing Ashlyn.

Hate for so many years of unprovoked attacks, tricks and lies...

He finished the job. Seth's neck snapped under the pressure and, finally, he was gone.

Roland got up from the motionless body, licking his blood-stained muzzle and breathing raggedly. He looked around; Ashlyn – who had awoken – and Darryl were both staring at him and the murder they'd just witnessed, absolutely shocked. He glanced back at the body of Seth.

It was then that he realised the full scope of what he'd committed.

Roland started to panic. What had he _done_?

"Oh no..." He rubbed his eyes as if to see if that would change anything. Unfortunately, it didn't.

Roland grasped the dead dragon in his paws and shook him fiercely, trying to wake him up. His efforts were to no avail. The death had already been dealt.

There was nothing that could save him now. And it was all his fault...

"I..." Roland felt a wetness reach his eyes. "I..."

"R-Roland..." Ashlyn's quiet tone came forth. He felt a paw on his back but he immediately lashed out at the thing behind him.

"Stay away from me!" he hollered. Ashlyn jumped back in fright but she continued anyway.

Roland felt like fainting from the sheer sight of the body. His neck was mangled; the blood gushed out like a rapid... Ashlyn's voice distracted him from his thoughts.

"It's... okay..." she said slowly. Roland looked back at Ashlyn, astonished by her words.

"This is okay? I _killed_ him! I-"

"I... I know how you feel," she cut him off.

"How would you kn-" he interrupted himself when he remembered who she was. He took another long look at the murder before him.

Roland felt like getting up and running. Sprinting away from his problems... Again, the dragoness's voice stopped him...

"My first was just as bad." She slowly started to walk up to him again. "I felt horrible. But... you have to get used to it. If you keep it holed up inside you, it'll drive you insane."

Roland didn't feel any better about himself but his breath started to regulate and his quickly beating heart slowed. He sluggishly got off the discoloured grass.

"He would've done the same," Darryl spoke up, "I underestimated him..."

Roland's hate had already vanished. He felt guilty. Really guilty for what he'd done.

But he didn't feel sorry. What Darryl had said was right. Seth would've killed him if he gave him the chance.

He remembered his last words. _I'm sorry. Please_... What if he meant it? What if he really was going to stop?

It was too late to find out now. He would never know. But something told him Seth would just lie again. Lie like he did almost everyday of the life he once had.

"I need to be alone," Roland muttered. After one more look at Seth's broken body, he walked off towards the oak. He felt Ashlyn and Darryl's eyes on him.

Somehow, whether it be a miracle, he didn't feel like the companions he had left hated him for it. Ashlyn had seen and been through the same ordeal before, but what of Darryl? Shouldn't he be worried or frightened? Roland didn't feel like he would get the chance to ask him.

He took a seat so the events from earlier were behind him. He didn't want to look at that horrible affair again. Wiping a paw across his eyes, he noticed just how wet they were.

Roland felt exhausted more than anything. For the third time tonight, he dozed off, anxious.

* * *

Even if he wasn't in the best mood, Roland knew a dragon required a burial, no matter how bad a person they were.

There weren't many materials to build one, but there was an oak tree. All earth dragons belonged with the nature. It was said they would live on as spirits if they were buried in nature.

Of course, living on as a spirit was probably not what Roland would've wanted for him. Even if he wasn't fond of Seth, he would rather him be alive. But it was the least he could do to apologise for his terrible actions.

"That should do it," Ashlyn said, wiping the dirt off of her claws. She'd been digging a hole in the ground for the past hour next to the tree.

"Good work..." Darryl muttered, his eyes downcast. He'd never really gotten to know him, but death was always a touchy subject. It was impossible to be happy in times like these...

Ashlyn wandered over to where Seth was being kept. Roland caught another glimpse of his handiwork as she started to drag the body over. He lowered his gaze.

Soon, Seth was laid in the hole; Ashlyn tried to get him into a comfortable position on his back. Roland reluctantly chose to look down upon the dragon once more. Another wave of guilt washed over him.

The dragoness started to top the grave with dirt. And soon enough, he was gone. In the ground, now at peace.

Nobody uttered a thing for a while. A feeling lingered in the air. It wasn't sadness, but more a combination of that, awkwardness and guilt. Roland certainly felt culpable...

Even after the way Seth had treated him, even after trying to eliminate Ashlyn like that, he still kind of cared about him... Maybe it was just how responsible he felt for the murder?

"That's that," Ashlyn said, breaking the lengthy silence. "I, um... I'm sorry, Roland..."

The red dragon sighed. "You shouldn't be... It's my fault."

"I think we're all to blame," Darryl spoke up, "you didn't start that fight. You only... ended it. I guess that's all we could've hoped for..."

Before, Roland didn't feel very sorry for what he'd done. But now that had changed. If there was a way to bring him back to life, he would definitely take the chance...

Unfortunately, there isn't a way to bring others back from the grave...

Roland turned his head to the tree and muttered three words.

"I'm sorry, Seth."

* * *

 **And there we go...**

 **I personally wasn't too sure about writing this book with** ** _that_** **in mind, but after thinking about it for weeks, I decided to take the risk...**

 **Also, I'm not really sure how I feel about this chapter as a whole. I feel like it's kind of subpar compared to my other chapters. Maybe because it's shorter? I'm not sure...**

 **Oh well. You'll have to tell me what you think. As always, thanks for reading Dragon's Ruin.**


	11. Facade

Facade

Roland spent most of that day just watching the sea, lost in a maze of thoughts. He didn't move much. Despite how many times he tried to get it off his mind, his thoughts kept meandering back to the previous affair. The look on Seth's lifeless face was haunting.

He did notice that the weather was changing; everything was rather chilly. Winter must be right around the corner...

That was yet another futile attempt at distracting himself...

He felt hopeless when he tried to get the image out of his aching mind. It was as if it was _welded_ into his mind, stuck there in a powerful iron grip, burning away at his cranium. Roland put his paws to his skull.

"Hey, um... Roland," a voice spoke up. He glanced up to find Darryl standing there. He tried to force a grin.

"Hi, Darryl."

"Have you seen the dragoness?" he asked. "I need to have a conversation with the pair of you."

"I think she went out to get a meal." He pointed towards a small grove in the distance, almost hilariously close to Warfang. It was a wonder it didn't join the blaze from earlier. "Although, that was an hour ago now..."

"I guess I'll just have to stay patient," the deer responded, "I'd rather not have to tell the same thing twice."

"What were you going to say?" Roland lifted a brow.

Darryl frowned. "That contradicts my statement, does it not?"

Roland sighed. "Fine..." he responded slowly. The deer beamed before walking off to look out at the waves himself.

Now more or less alone, he tried to think of other things. His pondering led him to Warfang and its siege.

He had to think. What had _actually_ happened back there?

Of course, he knew how the fires started. Dreadwings bombed every last building. But who had planned out and conducted the raid? His first thoughts were of that mysterious monster, Drevon. The name rung loud and clear within him.

Just thinking of the metallic figure made him shiver. There was obviously something strange about them. Maybe it was the whole 'tyrannical warlord basket case' deal?

Roland almost chuckled to himself. Jokes aside, he knew something was going on. Who in their right mind would organise an attack on the dragon city? In fact, who would _incinerate_ Warfang? There was no gain in doing that.

Maybe the fire wasn't all it was cracked up to be? He couldn't be sure. Drevon sounded as if he wanted the world to burn...

All he knew was that Drevon shouldn't be taken lightly. It was odd, but Roland had an unnerving feeling that he would show up again. There was no doubt about it.

Ashlyn came soaring back an hour later. He breathed a sigh of relief.

"Finally..." he said to himself.

She came back with a weird rodent creature he'd never seen before. He frowned at the peculiar sight.

"What's that?" he questioned her. She shrugged in response.

"Beats me. It's the only thing I could find in the forest. Looks edible enough..."

Roland narrowed his eyes, kind of bewildered. "You have no idea what that thing is and you're going to _eat_ it?"

"Well, it doesn't look poisonous. Maybe it would do well on a fire?"

"That thing is disgusting..." Roland noticed its features in greater detail. It was covered in the tiniest amount of hair; its wrinkly pink skin could be seen underneath. Two jagged yellow teeth jutted out of its shrivelled up mouth and the legs it had were stumpy. Roland gagged after glancing at it again.

"That _thing_ is the only thing we have to eat." Ashlyn started to prepare a circle of rocks for a fire. Roland narrowed his eyes.

"That _thing_ looks like a pink avocado..." A giggle escaped Ashlyn's muzzle but she didn't respond. Instead, she treaded around the site and collected a bunch of twigs.

The dragoness picked up a few longer branches after setting the twigs she had in the circle. She grabbed a flint, struck it against a stone and set it all alight. After letting the flames rise for a while, she threw the animal on top and kept an eye on it. Roland had to admit that he was kind of impressed; she seemed to know her way around cooking. Well, at least that's what he thought...

He paced towards the fire and took a seat opposite Ashlyn. She smiled slightly before returning her attention to the roasting animal. Even if it was the ugliest thing he'd ever laid his eyes on, the scent it produced was outstanding. It almost smelt like venison...

Roland looked over at Darryl and snickered when he screwed up his nose.

"What in the blazes is _that_?"

"I have no idea..." Ashlyn smirked, "but it smells good..."

Darryl shook his head in disbelief. Roland cocked his head when the deer sat down in front of the fire. If he despised the smell, why would he move _closer_ to it? His question was answered only a few moments later.

"I have something to tell you both," Darryl stated. Ashlyn glanced at him, still keeping a watchful eye on the meal.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Well, how do I put it..." The deer gazed at his hooves. "I'm leaving."

Roland was a little shocked. He was leaving? But why? Where would he go?

Ashlyn stopped watching the animal. "You're leaving?"

"That's correct..." Darryl confirmed, "I have places to go, things to attend to back home..."

Roland could only ask one thing. "When?"

The deer's response was baffling. "Now..."

"You mean... right now?" Ashlyn took a long look at him. The deer nodded.

"It has been quite the experience. But I must go elsewhere. Plus, the cold is starting to settle in; now is as good a time as any to get moving."

"But it's dark," Ashlyn muttered, bemused. "You won't be able to see a thing... Stay one more night, at least..."

"We deer have a keen sense of vision," Darryl said. "I did set out at night beforehand..."

Roland couldn't meet the deer's gaze. It was so sudden... After all this, he was just going to leave? Roland couldn't help but feel a little angry but thought it was best not to express his honest opinion. That would only leave this all on a sour note...

"So... I guess this is goodbye?"

"I guess so." The deer got up. "I do apologise for the sudden departure... but you must understand."

"Yeah, it's okay, Darryl." Ashlyn gave him a weak smile. He returned it.

"See you later. Its been... interesting, to say the least."

Roland forced himself to look upwards. He gave him a wide grin. "Take care, Darryl."

"I shall." And with that, Darryl set off into the night. Roland felt alone, despite Ashlyn's presence.

The red dragon peered into the distance and saw a small brown dot before it vanished completely. He breathed a low sigh.

He felt worried at that moment. What if Ashlyn left him so suddenly? What would he do with himself then?

"You're not going to leave as well, are you?" Roland questioned her, nervous. She immediately shook her head.

"Only if you want me to," she joked. He immediately felt better, knowing that she wasn't going to disappear like everyone else had. He wouldn't know what to do with himself if that was the case.

The night seemed so calm now; grasshoppers made soft, resounding sounds from the grass, an owl's hoot echoed from a nearby tree and meat seared softly on the fire...

"Hey, um... you might want to check on that." Roland pointed at the odd rodent creature roasting away. Ashlyn gasped.

"Oh crap..." She quickly stuck the flat of her tail blade into the flames and flipped the creature clumsily onto the grass. Then she patted down the small fire, making it vanish. Surprisingly enough, she didn't receive a single burn.

"Aww, now it's all grassy..." Roland muttered, grinning.

"Shut up," she said firmly. Roland could tell she was trying to hide her own embarrassed smile.

Ashlyn swiftly tossed the meal back into the charcoals of the fire. She exhaled noisily, relieved that the rodent wasn't burnt.

She sliced the body into neat little portions, tearing of roasted legs and other things he thought must be delicacies. Roland, again, was intrigued by how well she knew her way around an animal, especially one she'd never seen before. Maybe she was just guessing?

Roland was able to notice that she looked cheerful doing it. Actually, she'd seemed quite happy for most of the day, making jokes and grinning all the while. It was quite the drastic change from her previous dreary mood. Of course, he wouldn't change that for a second.

"Here you go," she exclaimed, chucking him one of the stumpy legs. He caught it and examined it for a second. The leg looked almost like a chicken's leg, only fatter and pink in colour. If someone else looked at it, they would probably say it's raw.

After picking out a few of the claws it still had, he took one large bite into the meat. It tasted just as good as it smelt, albeit not like deer. It had more of a stringy, rabbit-like taste. It was such an odd combination of tastes, but they all worked together to create quite the appetising meal. Maybe its disgusting uncooked appearance was to deter others like him from preying on it? He didn't care; he started to munch happily on the bone.

He savoured a few more segments before leaving the rest for Ashlyn. The meat was rather filling.

Roland still felt a little lost, even when Ashlyn was with him. He'd thought about heading off to Tall Plains earlier, but his decision wasn't final. If Ashlyn denied, then the choice was simple. He wouldn't end up going.

"So, Ashlyn," he started.

"Mm?" she mumbled in-between eating a small chunk of the meal.

"Have you thought about where we're going after all this?"

She finished eating. "No, not really. Do you have a place in mind?"

"Well, maybe..." He looked out towards the sea. "I was thinking of going to Tall Plains."

"Why is that?" She seemed interested by his decision. Roland explained the story he'd heard back in Old Maiden's and the treasure that could supposedly grant wishes. Ashlyn frowned after hearing everything.

"That seems a little far-off, Roland..." she exclaimed.

He nodded. "Yeah, I know... But I want to explore the world, maybe take a break there..."

"We've done hardly anything to deserve a break," she said, "but if that's where you really want to go..."

"You're agreeing with me?" He was definitely astonished. Ashlyn sighed silently.

"I don't really have anywhere to go, Roland. Following you has been... very different. It's been fun... despite all the bad." Ashlyn gazed into the stars before adding something else. "Always wanted to see the plains, anyway..."

Roland nudged her softly, a grin widening on his muzzle. "When should we get going?"

"I think tomorrow's okay." She returned the smile. "We're just wasting time out here now."

He responded with a joyful nod. The red quadruped was happy that she was coming along with him. He couldn't wait to get moving...

It would only be a few hours now.

* * *

Roland didn't happen to wake up at the time he expected. In fact, morning hadn't shown its first rays yet. Stars shimmered like crystals in a dazzling purple sky and the moons were bright, lighting the ground faintly. He didn't regret waking at a time like this at all; the heavens were simply stunning.

He noticed Ashlyn wasn't sleeping, but staring out at the ocean depths. That, unfortunately, seemed to be normal... How many days had it been? He wasn't sure how someone went without slumbering for such a lengthy period of time.

Perhaps it was time to voice the concerns he had?

A little tired, Roland treaded over to the ice dragoness, taking a seat right next to her. "Hey, Ash."

"Hello..."

He tried to start small, yawning. "Not sleeping?"

"No, just keeping watch," she explained. Roland knew there was a lie within her words.

"You haven't slept for days, Ashlyn." He dropped the act rather quickly. "Is something wrong?"

"Not tired..." she mumbled. Roland shook his head in disbelief.

"You've looked exhausted for the past few days. Why don't you let me take the watch? You could use the sleep."

"Roland, I'm fine..." She glanced at him. Still, he knew that was just another falsehood.

"Look at yourself... I'm worried, Ashlyn..."

After his statement, she gazed down into the waves below. Her own reflection and the stars above were drawn in the water. She tensed up at the weary image of herself.

"There's something wrong." He took a long look into the water with her. "Don't lie to yourself."

She was completely still for the longest of times, as if in thought. Roland was about to utter something else, but she managed to beat him to the words.

"I'm not sure you would want to hear what's wrong, Roland."

Roland quickly raised a brow. What did she mean by that?

"Of course I want to hear. I want to see if I can help you..."

"You'll..." She paused for a few moments, now looking at the grass. "You'll hate me..."

"Why is that?" he asked before smirking slightly. "I promise I won't be offended by whatever you tell me."

"Seriously, Roland..." She stared deep into his eyes. Roland immediately felt unsure of his intentions. The smile on his face vanished but he still persisted. There was no other way to find out what was going on.

"Okay, okay... What's happened, Ashlyn?"

Ashlyn hesitated. "Are you sure you want to hear this?"

Roland returned the stare she was giving him. "Whatever's bothering you..."

Ashlyn's breath trembled slightly before she started giving an explanation of her issue. "You remember back in the tavern when you told me about yourself?"

"Yeah... What about it?" he questioned.

"You spent ages looking for your parents..." she muttered. Roland gave her a befuddled look.

But the next thing she said was a little shocking. "You... You did that all for nothing..."

Roland frowned but he felt like he knew what she was trying to say. Still, he asked anyway. "W-What do you mean?"

"I..." She immediately looked away from him. Roland tilted his head.

"You... what?"

"They're dead, Roland..." she blurted out. He couldn't believe it, but the next bombshell she uttered was horribly startling.

"I killed them..."

What? That... That couldn't be true. She would never... This had to be a joke... A really _sick_ joke.

But her expression was unchanging...

After all this time, he'd had suspicions that they were up with the Ancestors, but to have it confirmed like that? And _she_ was the one who ended their lives? Roland's heart pounded furiously in his head.

"Y-You can't be serious... You're joking, right?" Unfortunately, Ashlyn only reassured his worries again with a sad nod.

"Y-You..." Roland couldn't form the words in his mouth. What was there to say?

"I-I'm sorry..."

He swallowed hard. Not only was he sitting next to a murderer, but also the killer of his own _parents_. He wanted to shout angrily at her, or burst into tears. Maybe even run far, far away; never see her again...

Roland opened his mouth to say something but found himself shutting it rather quickly. There was something there... Something that stopped him from doing any of these things.

He didn't feel mad at her. He wasn't depressed, either... Roland was only... bewildered.

He took another look at the ocean below. Ashlyn was there, peering into the blue depths, the most depressing expression on her face. He soon stopped panicking.

Ashlyn was clearly feeling terrible because of all this. This was what was keeping her up at night; she'd always regretted what she'd done...

And that had to have been years ago now... She had a reason, even if it wasn't one he was too happy about...

Roland straightened himself before giving her a smile and delivering three calm words. "I forgive you..."

Ashlyn was absolutely astonished. That must've been quite the surprise...

"Y-You're not mad?"

"Its... been a while since then, Ashlyn," he said, "and I've mostly forgotten about them... I know that sounds a little cold, but it's the truth..."

Ashlyn gaped at him, still surprised. "I wouldn't change the past now, either," he continued, the grin growing on his face again. "I met you, I met Darryl, Lando, Edna... I never would've met any of you if not for that..."

"Don't get me wrong, I loved my parents. They were the world to me..." He turned his gaze to the purple sky. "But I'm happy with the life I have. I don't think it would've been this interesting living with my parents..."

"And, well, you were the one that made it interesting for me... I wouldn't be where I am... I wouldn't be sitting here with you right now." He returned his eyes to hers. "So, yeah... That's how I feel."

"I thought you would..." Ashlyn stared down into the water once more. "You're weird, Roland..."

"Am I?" he asked, amused.

"Yeah, you are." She gave him a small, light-hearted push, grinning.

There was quietness between them for a while. Just staring into the sky, listening to the peaceful sounds of the night. Soon, she uttered two words.

"Thank you..."

Roland felt something softly touch his side. It turned out to be Ashlyn... He felt his face warming before she quickly moved away from him. Roland chuckled sheepishly.

"You should, um... head off to bed..." He said, a little embarrassed. She didn't hesitate and left him to his own devices, giving him one last, warm smile.

He curiously glanced over to see if she would do just that. It didn't take very long for her to fall into a deep slumber...

Roland sighed before staring out into the ocean. Of course, he was still surprised by the truth behind his parents. But was it really worth forcing her to endure his emotions?

Well, at least he knew they were at peace now. Up somewhere with the Ancestors, maybe even watching over him... He smiled at the thought before starting his watch...

* * *

This was it. The day they set out for Tall Plains.

Roland yawned quietly, tired after keeping himself from sleeping. The night he spent awake was uneventful; the soft noise of water gurgling against the rock side was the only thing that stopped him from dozing off. He also felt particularly cold; the chilly breeze rushed over him.

Shivering slightly, he went off to check on Ashlyn. She was still sleeping peacefully. He would've been irritated if it had been any other moment, but she'd needed the rest for a long time now. Roland didn't bother her.

Roland had managed to map out where they would go. They could fly across the ocean, maybe take short breaks on the small islands on the way. That sounded good to him.

Roland was obviously fond of reading and ancient history wasn't an exception. Tall Plains used to be much, much closer to Warfang, only a few day's journey. But after the Dark Master and the near decimation of the world they lived in, Tall Plains had shifted in the chaos, as had many other areas. It broke off from the land and floated out towards the White Isle. Of course, it didn't make the whole journey; the odds of that were nearing the edge of impossibility. Now it would be around a week by the time they arrived, and that would be without taking a moment to rest...

He heard Ashlyn yawn noisily next him. "Mmm, good morning..." she said.

"Hey," he greeted her. "Did you sleep well?

"Yeah, I guess." Roland glanced at her and she definitely looked refreshed after her slumber. He gave her a little smile.

"Well, do you want to get going? As you said, we're just wasting our time here now..." He stretched his wings. The coldness that loomed in the air was making his ligaments stiff.

"We might as well..." Ashlyn soon trod over to the rock side. He was about to go after her but halted himself.

"Just one sec, Ash..." he called to her. "I've got to do something real quick."

"Catch up with me, then," she shouted back before soaring into the morning sky. Roland sighed quietly to himself.

There was something he'd been forgetting, or trying to forget, for the past day or two. There was no way he would ever be able to forget that one fateful night...

He walked slowly to the oak tree. Even if he wasn't here, Roland had to say goodbye to him. That was the most respectful thing he could do... Maybe his spirit would grant Roland the forgiveness he desire so much? Of course, he wasn't expecting to get what he wanted...

And so he started.

"I don't usually talk to the deceased..." He smiled weakly to himself. "But I guess I should say goodbye..."

He looked at the spot where they'd laid his body; an earthy brown compared to the green grass. "And, well... I hope you can somehow forgive me..."

"You're probably in a better place now, anyway. What do you do up there? What are the Ancestors like? Are you having a good time? Do you throw parties?" He laughed at his own speech, albeit humourlessly. "I guess I'll have to wait and find out..."

"Oh well..." Roland pulled at one of his scales and tore it right off of his body. He felt a small stinging, but it was trivial. After staring at its mucky appearance for a few moments, he tossed it onto the earthy patch of ground. To a dragon, this was another way to pay respects, and probably the most reverent as well. Injuring yourself for another's sake was always seen as brave and deferential in dragon tradition, however silly it might seem.

"Yeah, you keep that." He paused for a couple of seconds. "We're heading to Tall Plains now, in case you didn't know... And I'm not sure if I'll see you again soon..."

He eyed his paws for a couple of seconds "So, I guess this is it..."

Roland felt the wind rush over him once more. However, it wasn't freezing... Instead, it was warm; he felt a little warmer on the inside.

Maybe that was him?

Roland turned around before casting the grave one last glance. "See you later, Seth. It was... _nice_ knowing you..."

He leaped into the air and left the oak behind. Maybe Seth forgave him for his reckless actions? He would like to think so, even if that wasn't usually in Seth's nature...

Ashlyn happened to be flying towards their destination unhurriedly. When he quickly caught up with her, she lifted a scaly brow.

"What kept you?" she asked.

"Nothing really..." He looked to the waves before massaging his side. It still stung slightly, but it wasn't worth worrying about.

"Just saying goodbye," he added quickly.

"Goodbye? What do you..." Ashlyn was muddled for a moment but soon understood what he meant. "Oh..."

Soon, the quietude settled between both of them. He decided to peer into the distance but he was left rather unsatisfied. Apart from a few fluffy clouds drifting across the horizon, all he could see was the sky and depths.

Ashlyn was a little saddened by his words. She closed her eyes and muttered something incoherent under her breath before losing the trifling mood.

Unfortunately, there really wasn't much to do... Roland was already feeling bored...

This was going to be a _long_ journey.

* * *

The first day came and went pretty quickly. Night had cast its shadowy veil over the world once more. Roland sighed, staring into a glowing pile of leaves and twigs before him, thinking of the one called Drevon.

Apart from his actions beforehand, Roland also wanted to forget his encounter with the metal dragon. Back in that mansion... That was some really scary stuff...

For a while, he'd stopped fretting over it, but it was quickly coming back to haunt him. What was their deal? What was their true intention? They'd told him about the world burning, but who in their right mind would even try such a thing? Nobody was crazy enough to do something that insane...

Unless it was the Dark Master... He wanted nothing more than to 'cleanse' the world; to fulfil his 'destiny' as the purple dragon. But the Dark Master 'ceased to exist' hundreds of years ago. Spyro was the one to achieve such a feat.

Roland remembered the story of the hero himself. As a child, with a little help from a snarky dragonfly and a shadow dragoness, had been through what seemed like hell itself. Rescuing the Guardians of old, surviving and destroying the Well of Souls, ridding the world of evil incarnate... All very brave things...

After his heroic accomplishments, Spyro went on to live a semi-peaceful life in Warfang with the dragonfly and dragoness. He was widely known for his heroism, rich and not without huge power in the city, court and, well, practically everywhere he walked. Life must've been great for him...

Well, that's what the stories said. Spyro had supposedly passed away at a rather young age for a dragon, especially for one of the purple variety. Roland didn't know of the cause

All the purple dragons in this world are long gone now...

Back at square one, he thought of another question. Who was Drevon? Again, what were their intentions? Wouldn't their efforts be for naught if they were destroying themselves in the process of burning the world to the ground?

For now, he hadn't a single clue...

"What are you thinking about?" Ashlyn suddenly asked. Roland looked briefly at the ice dragoness.

"Not much," he lied, "just the journey ahead..."

Well, the latter was kind of true...

"You've been staring into the fire for a while now." She took a long look at him. "Are you worried about the trip? We can go back if you want..."

"No, no..." He smiled meekly in her direction. "Just deep in thought, Ashlyn..."

"Would you care to explain?" Ashlyn immediately moved closer to him. He rolled his eyes.

"Alright..." he exclaimed after a few moments of thinking about it, shaking his head. Maybe she could help make some sense out of this befuddling mess? "Back in that mansion, the one I was supposed to be stealing from..."

He told her every detail he remembered. First how the house shifted on its own, then of the robed people. And, most importantly, about Drevon... She raised a brow, curious to know what he was talking about.

"Drevon? Who are they?"

"I'm not sure... I've had a dream about them before, but other than that, I don't know a whole lot about them..." He started to gaze into the burning pine again. "They said they wanted to make the world burn or something. I'm not really sure what that means."

"They sound like a lunatic..." she said jokingly. Roland snickered.

"Exactly what I was thinking." Even if Drevon wasn't something to poke fun at, he was able to appreciate the humour. He was happy to see her in a good mood...

Time started to elapse quickly. Ashlyn was able to find another of those _pink avocados_ and cooked it to perfection once more. She'd also told him she would take the first watch, however useless that might seem on such a small mass of land. There were no real threats around...

Soon, he was left wondering into the night, thinking about the whole Drevon situation and a little about what they would do once they arrived. He wondered if the ancient Atlawa people still lived there? There wasn't too much knowledge to gain from them, but those slithers of information were enough to go off by.

Roland still felt cold and stiff. Even curling up around the fire wasn't enough to warm his body entirely. There were no warm substitutes around, either. He would just have to cope...

Roland slowly closed his eyes, sleep overcoming him. He could worry about the issues later...

The only important goal for him right now was reaching that artefact, if the rumour he'd heard was actually true. Going off of a rumour probably wasn't the best thing to do, but he didn't mind...

There wasn't much else he could do...

This long journey would only continue tomorow...


	12. Nice Monsters, Happy Dragons

Nice Monsters, Happy Dragons

Another day, another take off. Roland leaped into the skies, prepared for the long trip once more. Several days of flying had elapsed and he was starting to tire of this constant moving. But he kept pushing himself to go; there was no turning back now...

Well, was there? Roland only just happened to realise that he'd taken this journey on a whim. All because of a rumour... Was he really that idiotic? Maybe he could go back...

No... He'd gone too far now. He wasn't going to 'turn around'. Other than being a waste of time, Ashlyn would probably think him stupid... Plus, that treasure was definitely something he wanted to get his paws on. He thought of the riches he could obtain...

Roland shook his head before looking out at his surroundings... Unfortunately, there really weren't any.

Every island he'd taken a break on previously were faded dots on the horizon (except for the one he'd just left, of course) and there were no others for miles all around him. Roland felt like he would be flying tonight, as well. He usually wouldn't complain, seeing how little effort it does take for a dragon to fly, and of just how much he enjoyed soaring through the heavens, but winter's freezing temperatures were making every ligament in his body stiff. The thin bones in his wings weren't feeling very flexible today...

Ashlyn didn't seem fazed by the coldness. Ice dragons had a resistance to this kind of frigidness, so that obviously made sense. He was still a little ticked off by her nonchalance, however.

The waters must have been feeling the temperatures as well; ice was slowly starting to materialise on its surface. There was even the occasional drop of snow from above... Roland grumbled quietly to himself, starting to tremble slightly in the icy cold breeze.

Perhaps he was over exaggerating this whole ordeal? He wasn't too sure. Roland sighed, deciding to not complain about his own feelings any longer, as difficult as that might be.

"Are you okay, Roland?" Ashlyn spoke up for the first time in a while. "You're shivering..."

Roland nodded, trying not to seem too fragile. "Yeah, just a little cold..."

"Sucks for you." She gave him a slight grin. "Winter's here. It's only going to get colder..."

Roland opened his maw to reply, but something shifted in the corner of his eye. He quickly turned his gaze to the depths and saw nothing. He frowned before making a response to her statement.

"I wish it wouldn't... You have nothing to complain about, Ashlyn."

"Being an ice dragon is enough to complain about, Roland..." She narrowed a single eye in his direction. "Not feeling the cold is probably the only benefit, and even that's sometimes a curse..."

"What do you mean?" he asked, confused. "You can kill thingies with ice and... stuff..."

"I could go on and on about why being an ice dragon is horrible," Ashlyn said, "I'm not sure where to begin..."

"And I don't even have an element..." Roland replied in a snarky tone. "You wouldn't know how that feels..."

"Well, I do..." She glared at him. "I didn't get my element as soon as I hatched. In fact, that hardly happens to any of us..."

"How about when you're my age? I've had to live without it for longer than everyone now..."

"I'm sure you're just a little late." Ashlyn tried to be reassuring.

"A little late," he muttered under his breath. Ashlyn rolled her eyes.

"This argument is stupid, Roland..."

He was about to continue, but realised how right she was... He shut his trap before another word could escape, instead deciding to respond with a slow nod.

A few minutes went flying by. Roland felt a bit strange; like he was being... watched? He wasn't sure how to put it. Again, he thought he might've seen something below the waves, but it vanished completely when he tried to catch a proper glimpse of it. Obviously just his imagination... The boredom was only trying to play tricks on his mind, trying to create some kind of excitement.

Like Ashlyn had told him, the winter breeze only got chillier as time progressed. It was blowing more forcefully so he didn't have to expend as much energy for flying, but he would rather the wind stop completely. It was only making him feel worse. His quivering continued, intensifying slightly.

Later, night fell across the world. The wind seemed to be relentless; every strong gust was like a vacuum that sucked the air from his lungs. His wings had a hard time complying with the conditions, as well. They almost wanted to give in to the situation, to force him into the watery deep below.

The coolness wasn't just irritating now, either. This ocean felt like the second coming of Dante's Freezer...

And the fog only added insult to injury...

The constellations in the night sky were bright enough to see through the blurry mist. Roland curiously inspected them, squinting at every glowing star, trying to not think about how much it hurt to fly. After a little while, he caught a glimpse of Ashlyn. She seemed to be having a hard time in the powerful current now that it wasn't just winter trying to affect her.

Soon enough, he realised just how long he might have to fly for... He wasn't sure if he could make it like this. His sides were hurting and with every movement of his wingspan, the pain only increased in magnitude.

He thought all hope might be lost. Would he succumb to the icy depths? No, that couldn't be it...

That was when he saw it...

A land mass...

Excitedly, he increased his speed, despite the flaring agony. He thought he heard Ashlyn gasp but the wind drowned out her voice. He felt like the island was within his grasp, even if it was a kilometre away.

A particularly loud gurgling seemed to resound from the sea. He almost inspected it, but he was far too thrilled about reaching the land mass. Ashlyn seemed to call out to him at that moment.

"Rol-" she yelled, her voice strained by the wind current, "st-

He frowned, trying to make sense out of her words.

"Wha-"

A huge explosion of water came from where the island was. It suddenly started to grow, getting taller with every moment. A terrifying roar burst out from the island's jaw... No, this was not an island...

This was a monster...

Roland had hardly any time to avoid a huge fireball that hurtled towards him. The heat brushed against his scales.

All at once, the coldness vanished, the wind stopped and the fog dissipated, revealing the creature in all its terror. A massive sea serpent...

Roland stared wide-eyed at the frightening sight before him. He didn't notice a second ball of flames erupt from the serpent's muzzle.

He was knocked aside by Ashlyn, saving him from what seemed like certain death. She didn't say anything as he corrected his own position, bursting into a speedy flight. He only followed her lead...

But the serpent was easily able to outrun them. It dove below the trembling waves it swam in and swiftly reappeared right in front of them. It launched a barrage of fire at the two. Roland was capable of dodging the assault, the blaze whizzing over his head.

Roland managed to take in a few of its features, but he didn't have much time. Terrifying and huge... A large set of sharp teeth and covered in armoured, indigo scales. No limbs, only a long, circular body. His short description ended when the monster threw itself at him, snapping with its mighty jaws. Again, Roland barely managed to evade the attack.

He soon decided that he could just soar further into the skies to get away from the horrible creature. He motioned to Ashlyn and she speedily followed his lead.

More blazing spheres roared past him, but the serpent's aim was off by a great deal. He knew he could make it out. There was no doubt about it...

As he neared the top of the clouds, he could hear a storm brewing from above. Roland paid it no mind and kept charging upwards, the fireballs now spreading far and wide.

There was a deafening crack of thunder before a bolt of lightning narrowly missed him. He shrieked in surprise, feeling the energy nearby course throughout his body. This thing... It was controlling the weather! What kind of sea serpent was this?

He could actually spot the lightning sparkling in the clouds, like an impenetrable wall of electricity. Almost immediately, he yelled to Ashlyn.

"Down! Go down!"

He saw her cast him an addled glance but she realised what was happening when a bolt of energy rushed past her. They both turned around and dashed towards the sea once more.

Not one attempt at striking them managed to hit him or Ashlyn, but they came pretty damn close. And soon, they had to worry about the fire again... Roland could hear the quickening beat of his heart, a loud thumping echoing inside his head.

Strangely enough, he noticed something in the corner of his eye again. It seemed to be approaching the serpent rapidly...

As he reached the water once more, he was able to discern what it was.

Another huge sea serpent, almost as big as the other... Roland was flabbergasted.

Two serpents? This was absurd... Was this the end? There was no way he was going to be able to escape from two of them...

When he did think the other was going to join the first in attacking him, however, it instead chose to charge the sea serpent. Ashlyn looked just as shocked as him.

The monsters started to bite and throw themselves at each other, growling noisily all the while. He couldn't move an inch, too frightened to do anything.

"Roland!" Ashlyn called out to him. "Come on!"

He didn't find himself flying in the other direction. The shock made him hover there, almost as still as stone if not for the constant beating of his wingspan. The massive creatures only continued to wear each other down. He'd taken note of the one that had stepped in to save them; its scales were of a light cyan.

"Seriously, you idiot! Hurry up!" she continued to shout at him. Again, he didn't stop watching the fight ensue. They traded blow after blow, each pummelling the other powerfully. A few elemental blasts went here and there, but they didn't do very much to assist in the ongoing battle.

Until, finally, one of them managed to get the upper hand. The dark serpent's bladed jaw locked itself near the serpent's head, unmoving and crunching down. Strained howls erupted from its muzzle.

Ashlyn grabbed onto his paw and started to drag him along the sky, yelling at him to get a move on. Roland didn't like her pulling at him like that. He felt himself pitying the serpent being crushed like this. Plus, it'd just tried to rescue them.

"Ashlyn. Do something!"

"W-What?" She was stunned. "They're serpents! Are you crazy?"

"It's trying to help us! You can still save it!" he hollered again. Ashlyn took one long look at the two fighting, panting quickly. She shook her head when she was done, but didn't respond with words. Instead, she opened her maw, letting loose a volley of ice shards aimed right at the dark serpent's eyes.

Ashlyn stopped trying to shout at him and drag him along, but she still looked furious. The icicles struck right where she'd directed them; the sea serpent let out a sharp cry of agony and let go of its target. After taking a split second to recover, the lighter monster chomped down on its target's neck in much the same fashion as the other had.

It shrieked in agony, wriggling and squirming to get free of the strong grip. As much as it tried, however, it just couldn't do it, now that the tables had been flipped on their side. Roland reluctantly observed the battle, feeling a little sick. It... reminded him of the past...

As crimson drizzled down its neck, the serpent soon stopped struggling, breathless. He looked away as the serpent met its demise...

Roland could hear Ashlyn breathing heavily next to him... Or was that the serpent? He wasn't too sure...

Soon, he decided to look up once more. The body of the serpent had sunk deep into the waves, its blood staining the water red where it had once been. Roland felt ill at the sight of the red water.

The lighter sea creature stared up at them, a curious glint in its large, turquoise eyes. Now that it wasn't trying to slay anything, it seemed friendly. Well, it wasn't spraying fire at them at least... It didn't seem like it was capable of proper communication, either, but it moved its head in his direction, ushering him over. Roland raised a brow at the abnormal behaviour. He still felt like it should be trying to kill them...

"Um... Ashlyn?" He thought he should ask her first.

"It feels like a trap," she exclaimed, reading his mind. Roland sighed in disbelief.

"Well, I'm going to check it out." He started to unhurriedly glide towards the serpent. "You can stay up here, if you want..."

Ashlyn didn't utter a word, but she rolled her eyes before following his lead. He was soon quite close to the serpent, probably at a distance where he could be gobbled up on the spot. Roland gulped down a ball of fear.

"Um... Hello?" He tilted his head, speaking shakily. The serpent grunted in reply. A small grin started to pull at his muzzle. This was a start...

"You saved us..." Roland could almost see a smirk on its face now. "Why is that?"

It looked as if it was trying to shrug, but an obvious lack of shoulders made that impossible. It growled a few words, but he couldn't understand what it was saying.

"What was that?" he asked again. The serpent tried to speak again, but the same thing ended up happening. Roland decided to ask a different question.

"Who are you?" He noticed it glare at him; he chuckled to himself. "Well, I'm going to call you..."

He tried to think of a good name for a sea monster like this. There were so many choices – he thought all of them were pretty cool... He eventually came to a decision.

"I'm going to call you Nelly." He beamed to himself. _Nelly_ pulled their features into a sharp smile. They must've been fond of their new title... It was great to know the serpent could at least understand him.

"If you're done bonding with this sea serpent," Ashlyn muttered, "can we get going?"

Nelly angled their head in her general direction. It pulled it's features into a wild grin, obviously recognising who it was. Roland started laughing heartily. Ashlyn would've went red if not for her scales.

"Yeah, uh... You're welcome?"

He noticed that Nelly motioned its head toward its back. Roland frowned at the serpent.

"What is it?" he asked. Again, they looked down their long back and settled horizontally in the water. Roland felt like he knew what it was trying to say.

"You want me to ride you?" To this, Nelly nodded quickly. Roland's joyful grin only continued to widen. "Well... alright..."

"Really?" Ashlyn asked, looking a little worried. Again, it moved its head once more. She exhaled noisily "Okay, um... sure..."

Roland seated himself on the serpent's lengthy spine, close to its head. He grasped onto its thick scales tightly. Ashlyn hesitantly positioned herself behind him. After he was comfortable, the serpent growled softly. Roland voiced the first question that came to mind.

"Do you want to know where we're going?"

It inclined its head. Roland rejoiced at the idea. He wouldn't need to force himself through the harsh winds anymore.

"Can you take us to Tall Plains?" he questioned. He instantly received another grunt before they started to move. Roland chortled happily.

Nelly wasn't very slow, either. Before Roland could ask it to move any faster, they were moving at a blistering pace. He felt like a lightning bolt...

Roland struggled to hold onto the serpent, despite the strong grip he had. Still, he managed to scream out in exhilaration.

"WOOOOOAAAAAA-"

* * *

Roland stretched his aching muscles and massaged his sore cranium. They'd all arrived at Tall Plains the next morning, a week's journey gone in what seemed like hours. Of course, he appreciated the help from Nelly, but the price to pay was irritating. His body felt like a limp noodle.

The friendly serpent cocked its head to the right, looking confused as to why he was in pain. Roland gave it a weak grin.

"Maybe a bit too fast, Nelly..." he said, cracking his back. Roland let out a groan, enjoying the sensation. "Oh, that's good..."

Nelly rolled its eyes, as if to say, 'Get used to it'. He let out a snicker.

"Well, thanks," he said. Nelly nodded, winking.

"Yeah, thanks for the ride..." Ashlyn spoke up. She still looked a little mad about something. After keeping quiet for a few moments, Roland let out a sigh.

"I guess this is goodbye..." He turned his gaze downwards. In spite of how long he'd known Nelly, he was already particularly attached to the serpent. It had, after all, saved his life. Roland frowned when he thought about all of the people that'd done just that... Just thinking about that made him tense up; without these friends, he could've died so long ago. Roland shuddered at his dark musings.

Nelly gave him a soft grunt and what looked like a wink. He gave it one last grin.

"See you later, bud..."

And with that, Nelly dove back into the waves...

He sat there for a while. It was quiet, the only sound being the waves lightly smacking the rock side. He tried to reminisce on the times he'd shared with Nelly, but he quickly became aware of how there weren't many things to remember. Another sigh slipped out of his muzzle. Perhaps he would see Nelly again? He wasn't sure, considering how far the sea stretched across the world. They could be anywhere now...

"We should get going..." Ashlyn walked up to him. Roland looked back at her.

"I guess so..." he muttered before getting up. He started to walk towards the area ahead. Apart from the small patch of grass they'd arrived at, a vast jungle lay before them. Huge mahogany trees, vines and other wild flora littered the area. There seemed to be a trail leading through the jungle, but it was worn. Nobody had been around here for a long time...

He started to walk up the path, noticing just how steep it was. Roland thought better of doing that and leaped into the skies to get a better view of his surroundings. Again, there really wasn't much to see other than the lush canopy. Roland remembered the name of this place being Tall Plains...

Why was it so flat? He shook his head back and forth.

That wish granting artefact had to be around here somewhere... But where exactly? He wasn't going to find it by flying up here, anyhow...

Was it even here at all? He continued to question his own actions...

He landed on the ground once more. Ashlyn was frowning at him.

"Where did you go?" she asked, confused. "You just left."

"Uhm..." he mumbled sheepishly. "Just checking the area."

"Can you tell me before you fly off like that?"

Roland gave her an awkward grin. "Yeah, ehm... Sorry."

Regardless of the concern she'd just shown, she still seemed annoyed about something. Voicing his thoughts was going to at least create something resembling a conversation.

"Is something bothering you?"

Ashlyn didn't turn her eyes towards him, continuing to walk. "You almost got us both killed... again. How did you not spot that serpent?"

Roland knew she was right about almost dying. His insides tensed up as he explained his reasoning. "It was dark... I thought it was land."

"Better question," she responded, "how did you mistake a _serpent_ for land?"

"I... I don't know!" he yelled defensively. He hastily lowered his tone. "I didn't know... I'm sorry, okay?"

Ashlyn quickly glanced at him but she didn't say another word. She did, however, seem less troubled. Their trip through the jungle resumed silently.

Roland kept his eyes to the faded tracks before him. They rounded a corner and moved up another steep hill. Maybe his thoughts about Tall Plains being flat were incorrect? This path seemed to lead upwards...

Around an hour of just walking quietly went by. There was this strange, awkward silence between the two, as if they had nothing to speak about. Of course, most days were filled with chatter between him and Ashlyn, but today just seemed off somehow... Roland did eventually think it best to say something.

"Do you want to have a rest?" he asked. "We've been walking nonstop for the past hour."

"Yeah, I guess..." Ashlyn stopped moving forward and sat herself against a large jungle tree. She certainly seemed eager.

Roland followed her example, using a trunk relatively close to her tree. Again, the quietness started to come forth, but he brushed it aside.

"So... where do you suppose we look?"

Ashlyn lifted a brow quickly. "What? I thought you knew where we were going?"

Roland felt his face heating up. "Um... N-No... I don't really."

"Seriously? Ugh..." Ashlyn put a paw to her forehead. "What, did you come here on a whim? Was this artefact all a rumour you heard somewhere?"

She'd just went over his entire plan in mere seconds. Roland had already called himself an idiot for thinking just that, and now he only felt worse about it. "You're... right."

At this, Ashlyn got up, shocked. "So you're saying we just wasted days coming here for no reason?"

"There's still a chance..." he tried to defend himself. Ashlyn obviously didn't care.

"Yeah, a fat one at that. And I thought-" She cut herself off. "Never mind."

"You thought what?" he asked, concerned. Ashlyn's head dipped towards the ground.

"It's nothing now, Roland," she said. Soon, the argument continued as normal. "But seriously, do you think you're stupid?"

After a while, he responded with a measly, "Yes". Ashlyn appeared to be surprised he'd actually admitted such a thing.

"Well, at least we can agree on one thing," she muttered. Roland peered into the grassy floor. "We're just wasting time here... We'll leave tomorrow."

"We're leaving?" he asked. "We only just got here. Even if that thing doesn't exist, you could use a break... I know I could."

"I don't need a break, Roland. I'm fine..."

"Then why are we taking one now?"

"Because you wanted to."

"But, if I remember correctly," he said, a grin starting to crack his features, "I asked. You were the one to say we should..."

To this, Ashlyn didn't have a proper response. "Oh... shut up," she replied through clenched teeth. There was the slightest trace of a smirk on her face. Roland let out a snicker. It seemed as if he'd just stopped their argument...

He had to wonder now. What was really the point in making the journey to Tall Plains? He desired that artefact, but did a thing that powerful actually exist? The first answer he came to was no.

And really, there wasn't much point in staying around if he was never going to find such a thing. All the riches he wished to get his claws on... There was no chance of any of that happening.

But then again, nothing's impossible. Just... improbable. And if something's improbable, there's always that chance, despite how slim it may be.

Really, Roland just couldn't make up his mind. He'd probably go insane trying to find it, but the treasure would be worth every bit of effort he put into it. Anything could be within his grasp... Wealth, power... Anything.

But did it exist?

Roland let out a groan, his mind in a lot of pain... He was back at square one.

"Are you alright?" Ashlyn inquired, giving him a perturbed look. He quickly nodded.

"Just a headache..."

It was quiet for a few moments, apart from the occasional rustling of leaves. Roland tried to pick out where the sounds were coming from, feeling bored. A small hare bouncing along, minding its own business. A couple of birds flying through the canopy, pecking at tiny insects. Roland noticed a shadow drift along the floor.

He turned his gaze upwards. It was just the trees swaying in the light breeze... In fact, where had the powerful gales and echoing thunder disappeared to? Was that really just in the power of those serpents?

Roland was still astonished by the way they'd controlled the winds. With a deafening roar, everything had come to a standstill. That was pretty powerful magic...

His thoughts were interrupted. Not by noise, but by the shadows that were cast from above. This time, they seemed a little... different. He thought he could see a figure in the blackness.

When he examined the leafy treetops another time, he saw the same thing. This time, he got up, feeling suspicious of whatever was going on around him.

"What is it?" Ashlyn noticed his wariness.

"I thought I saw something..." He continued to keep his eyes peeled for danger. Ashlyn got up at his words. They stood there soundlessly for a few lengthy seconds, completely alert. But he didn't see a single trace of whatever may have been following them.

"Are you sure you saw something?" Ashlyn asked, glancing between every vine and tree. "It could've been an animal. There's tons of those around here."

Roland sighed and took a seat against the mahogany trunk. "Yeah, I might be imagining things..."

Of course, he knew that he probably shouldn't think that. That was a sure-fire way of getting jinxed.

He continued to watch the trees for a little while, but he soon grew tired of it. Those shadows coursing along the jungle floor were only the leaves moving.

He rested his head against the trunk and closed his eyes. After staying up for so long, he felt like he could rest. The excitement of the events prior to arriving at Tall Plains were enough to keep him from succumbing to sleep, but now that it had all died down, he knew he could slumber peacefully.

The trees swaying, the birds humming peaceful tunes and the little noises animals made against the shrubbery. It was like a calming melody, almost a lullaby, to him. He could feel himself drifting off into the dream world...

And then a stick snapped...

There were yells and cries. Roland had to take a few moments to discern what was going on around him.

There was a large troop of llamas, the Atlawa he realised. Every single one of them were holding some kind of weapon, whether it be a makeshift sword, a pointed stick or a crude bow. Roland immediately jumped to his feet, finally knowing that this was an ambush.

"Trespassers!" somebody within the group called out. "Stop them!"

Roland lowered himself to the ground, prepared to pounce if any of the ambushing group came for him. Something hit his flank; he realised it was Ashlyn backing up into him.

"We don't mean any harm," she told them, teeming with anger, "we were just leaving..."

Roland noticed they'd formed a circle around them. He wasn't going anywhere, especially if those bows were aimed at him. Trying to fly out would only bring death... The Atlawa were famed for their use of a bow, however shoddy it might be.

"They aren't permitted to enter the sacred grounds!" another yelled out amongst them. "Heck, we have no idea who they are!"

There was a murmur of agreement within the group. Roland was expecting an attack sooner or later, but nobody tried. Maybe they thought he was dangerous? He would laugh if not for the twenty or so aiming their weapons at him.

There was a silence for a while. Roland had to admit that this was already the strangest battle he'd ever taken part in. Weren't people supposed to fight each other?

"What do we do?" one asked. They seemed hesitant to fight.

"I say we capture them and take them back to the chief..." another suggested.

"But they're dragons! She would punish us for it!"

"Let's kill 'em!"

"Take them back!"

"No!"

The screaming only intensified between the troop of Atlawa. The red dragon sat down on his haunches, awaiting their next move. There was no doubt that trying to make a getaway would get him killed.

"Can't we just settle this over some green tea?"

"Prod them!"

And then, a much louder, scarier voice came from the far end of the crowd.

"Stop it! All of you!"

At that, the shouting came to a sudden halt. Roland was able to hear the calm noises of the jungle for a moment. A figure walked to the front row of the crowd.

Roland was surprised to see a dragon...

She was green in colour. She had six large yellow horns, her eyes were of an olive colour and she looked a little younger than himself. That was all he was able to take in before listening to her speak. When she happened to see him, she was astonished

"A dragon? It's been awhile since I've seen one of my own kind..." She stared at him, looking joyful. She didn't look as if she'd seen Ashlyn yet, despite how close the ice dragon was to him. "What brings you here?"

"Uh..." Roland didn't want to tell her the truth. What if that artefact was some kind of sacred treasure the people here worshipped? Well, maybe that was a little far off... "We're just visiting."

"Oh well, it's nice to meet you!" She offered him a paw. He hesitated before taking it. Roland found her upbeat behaviour unsettling. At first, her voice seemed incredibly frightening. How did such a cheerful dragon seem so horrifying for a split second?

After that, letting go of Roland's paw, the green dragoness turned her head towards Ashlyn. For whatever reason, the unknown dragon's eyes were still shut. Roland frowned at her weird behaviour.

"And hello to you as well!" She gave her a grin. Roland glanced at Ashlyn. For whatever reason, she seemed absolutely bewildered. The green dragoness tried to hand her a paw. Ashlyn didn't take it; she was too busy gaping at her. Roland felt awkward just watching the two.

"Um, hello?" the unknown dragon said. She opened her eyes a second later. At first, she frowned. But her confused expression quickly turned to one of shock.

Ashlyn took a few slow steps backwards. Roland angled his head, weirded out by the actions between them.

"I-It's... y-you." The green dragon's tone quivered fearfully. The group of Atlawa surrounding her seemed confused – Roland was feeling the same way.

"I, um..." Ashlyn muttered, unable to respond. The green dragoness pointed an accusing claw at her.

"Y-You..." She rubbed her eyes, as if to wipe away tears. Roland was dumbfounded by the sudden change in mood. She'd seemed so happy... What had Ashlyn done to this dragoness?

"Ehm, Myrtle," a male Atlawa spoke up, "what do we do?"

The dragoness didn't answer; she only peered at Ashlyn. Roland wasn't sure what to call the mixture of emotions displayed on her expression. Sadness and shock, a little guilt...

"Myrtle?" he asked again.

All of her emotions seemed to be replaced with seething rage at that second. Roland wasn't sure if it was the right word to use, but Ashlyn looked quite afraid of the green dragon, anxiously awaiting her next move. Roland had no idea what to make of the situation they were in.

"Arrest them," she told him, struggling to hold in an astounding amount of hatred. Roland was now very surprised. "Put them in a cell."

"But-" he tried to say something. Myrtle was quick to cut him off.

"Do it!" she exclaimed furiously. The Atlawa group followed her command swiftly.

Roland had to lower himself into a somewhat combat-ready position, but he didn't want to maim the Atlawa. Ashlyn followed suit, opening her maw for a blast of ice.

He managed to smack one fair in the snout with the flat of his blade, only enough to put him on the ground. But he ended up being pinned to the jungle floor by several of them without much of a fight. He didn't even try to break free of their grip, too confused as to what was happening.

Ashlyn didn't fair much better, either. She seemed, overall, too astonished to try releasing any magic. Quite a number of the Atlawa kept her from moving, but, almost exactly like him, she didn't try to brawl her way out. He found that strange. He'd asked himself before, but what had Ashlyn actually done?

He wasn't too sure. All he knew how was that he was being dragged away, far away, by a group of Atlawa and a previously happy, now frightening dragon. He didn't really pay much attention to the trip, too confused by his thoughts...


	13. Locked Away

Locked Away

Despite the situation he'd been thrust into, Roland couldn't help but feel nostalgic. A while ago, he'd been tossed into a gaol cell with Ashlyn. Worse still, he had not a single idea what he was in for. All he knew was that she'd somehow caused all this.

He definitely felt mad at her. But he couldn't bring himself to speak his mind. Ashlyn didn't need that.

Roland hadn't paid much attention on the way in, but he did know he was in an Atlawa village. Before, there were little houses and huts, llamas gazing on at himself and Ashlyn. He'd noticed the people murmur a few things amongst themselves, but they were incoherent. The muddled thoughts swirling around his mind were more than enough to block out the noise.

They'd went around a corner, entered a building and now here he was. In a cell, just like that time in Avalar. Instead of the rusted iron bars and cold, stone ground of the previous gaol, this one looked like it was made of wood. In spite of his best efforts, however, charging the bars didn't result in them snapping. It felt like there was something more durable contained inside the poles; he thought it might be steel. Why somebody would attempt to decorate a place like this was beyond him.

He'd even tried picking the lock with his claws, but that yielded no results, as well. It didn't seem like Ashlyn would achieve anything, either. In fact, she didn't seem like she wanted to try. Ashlyn was staring into the wall opposite her, probably deep in thought, sadness crossing her features. He gave her a curious glance.

"What's on your mind?" he asked her. Ashlyn rubbed her eyes, turning her gaze to the wooden floorboards.

"This whole thing is my fault," she said. Roland raised a brow. Even though he knew how true her statement was, he didn't want to look like his was forcing the blame on her. "I deserve this... You don't."

"Who was that girl?" He shuffled a little closer to her. Ashlyn didn't meet his eyes. A sigh slipped out of her muzzle.

"Her name's Myrtle, you know that much," Ashlyn started, "but a while back, I did something horrible to her. I wish I could just take it all back..."

Roland was curious as to what she was talking about, but he already had suspicions. Did she do _that_?

He hesitated. Did Ashlyn want to talk to him about this? Was he sure he wanted to know? In the end, however, he thought it was best to not be left musing about what could've been.

"What did you do?" he questioned cautiously. At that, Ashlyn raised her eyes to look at him. She slowly began to explain herself.

"Myrtle had a sister. She... She died three years ago. That was my fault."

Roland was surprised, regardless of whether he'd already suspected it. Another victim... Just how many were there?

"Sh-She was nine at the time... And yet, I-I had to kill her. I've never forgiven myself for that..."

A nine year-old? Who in their right mind would even think about doing such an awful thing?

Ashlyn... Roland suddenly felt uncomfortable sitting next to her.

"Why?" he inquired nervously.

"I was forced into it." Her tone was unusually quiet. "If I didn't complete the assassination, I would've been killed. And now, when I look back on every murder... I... I should've just killed myself, Roland. I would've done this world a favour..."

Roland now knew that she was taking things way too far. Was she seriously thinking of... No, she couldn't be. That was insane. Even after the horrible acts she'd committed... She didn't deserve that at all.

"Ashlyn... that's a stupid thing to think."

"Back then, it... it would've been the best thing to do. Nobody would've missed me. I didn't have anything to lose."

He despised the way she was speaking. He would never let her do something along those lines.

"That was back then, Ash. You... You shouldn't let those thoughts consume you. There's nothing worse than that."

At that, Ashlyn exhaled noisily but offered him a tiny smile. "You sound like a prophet, Roland."

Roland lifted a brow before returning the gesture. "Do I?"

She gave him a slight nod before losing the smile and returning to her troubled story. Roland wished the small amount of happiness she'd shown at his concern for her would last a little longer. He proceeded to lay down on the timber boards below him, resting his head on a paw and paying close attention to her words.

"A dragon – his name was Aurus – took me from my family when I was young. A few days after I was given this ring." She held up her paw again. Roland could spot the beautiful jewellery on her claw. That very same gilded ring encrusted with a bright blue gemstone. He could see some kind of energy spiralling inside of the sapphire. "It's all I have to remember her by now."

"Who's this Aurus?" Roland asked, wondering about this other dragon she'd mentioned.

"Aurus was a cruel man. He was the one who forced me into killing others. At first, of course, I didn't want to do what he said." Ashlyn took a shaky breath. "He didn't take no for an answer..."

Roland's expression quickly turned to one of worry. "What did he do?"

Ashlyn stared fixedly at the golden ring, sadness crossing her expression. "He chained me to a wall. Hit me... A-Almost drowned me once..." She shuddered. "I dealt with it for such a long time. Everyday, he would ask me if I was ready, and I would always say no. But, after a while, I just couldn't take the pain anymore."

"I told him I would do what he wanted. That was seven years ago now."

Roland took a second to recall the distant past. The days when he was living a peaceful life with his loving parents. The day his life changed forever, be it for better or worse. "Is... that the day you..."

"Yes, it is," she muttered. Roland tried to stay as nonchalant as possible. "They were my first and second. He helped me then, if only to make sure I didn't run off. He told me that if I tried anything, he would kill me."

Even if it was a touchy subject, Roland was eager to hear more of his parents. He urged her to keep going.

"They were in a meeting at the academy. We sat and watched for a while, looking through a window from the shadows. Soon, they came out. They... They seemed so happy at the time. By the look of things, they'd just gotten you set up for school."

By now, Ashlyn had shrunk to the floor, looking terrible. "W-We followed them for a while, and he eventually led her into an alleyway hidden from the rest of the street."

Roland was picturing the words in his mind. His parents grinning, embracing each other affectionately, away from everybody else. Loving each other, like a couple should. Just pure, unbridled contentment...

And then all those feelings were ripped away from him

"Aurus took that chance to strike. He knocked your father out while he was distracted. He... H-He restrained your mother a-and kept her from calling out for help. And then he told me to stab her."

"I-I didn't want to, but I was... so afraid of what he might do to me. I could've ran. I-I could've left him behind me. But I didn't. I... did as I was asked."

Roland shivered slightly at the last thing she mentioned. He wanted to speak up, but he wasn't able to find his voice.

"A-And... well, now you know my story." A low, humourless laugh crept out of her maw. Realisation started to dawn on Roland. If what she was saying was true... Did that mean it was _actually_ her doing?

"Ashlyn, if he forced you into those murders, then why are you telling me it's your fault? From what you've said, it doesn't seem that way."

"Because I could've done anything else," Ashlyn said. "I should've ran when I had the chance. I should've hid somewhere."

"But he still forced you to."

Ashlyn was downcast. "After a while, I grew used to it; he sent me out on my own with that same death threat... And, later, I started to kill others I wasn't told to. I..." She slowly turned away from him and paced to the other side of the room. Roland got up from his position, raising a scaly brow.

She put a paw up against the wooden wall. He was barely able to hear her soft, quavering voice. "I-I didn't care about them. Th-Their lives, their families. I didn't think about the consequences. I felt like I had to do a better job, just in case he..." She trailed off. The tone in her voice told Roland she was getting mad at herself.

"And now I feel terrible," she continued, "I'm so stupid. I-I don't deserve this... Every little bit of happiness I've had. They could've used it so much more than me... "

"I don't deserve you. And... And I don't deserve my life!" With a sudden cry, Ashlyn slammed her skull into the wall. Roland gawked at her actions, absolutely dumbfounded.

"Ashlyn-" Roland tried to stop her, but she hastily intervened.

"I'm a heartless monster, Roland! How do you forgive me for everything I've done wrong? All I do is ruin lives. I..." Ashlyn sluggishly turned to face him.

"I shouldn't have hatched... I wish I never did..."

She did the most shocking thing then and there. She pressed a sharp claw to her neck. Roland's breath was caught in his throat.

"A-Ashlyn..." He tried to reach out for her. "Don't."

She stared deep into his golden eyes. "I... I _d-deserve_ this, Roland..."

Before she could draw a drop of blood, he dashed towards her. "No! Ashlyn!"

Roland couldn't hear anything but the heavy pounding of his heart. He tried to call out to her again, but the sound never came out of his mouth. What if he was too late? What if she managed to pull it off? He couldn't bear to think that. He wasn't going to let her do that to herself. Roland was determined to stop her.

Ashlyn went wide-eyed when he quickly barged into her, knocking them both into the wall. They ended up in a pile on the floor, him on top, trying his best to subdue her.

He was very much in pain from the awkward landing, but that hardly mattered. He gaped at her, astonished by what she'd almost done to herself. A small speck of crimson drizzled down her neck where a scale had been torn off, but he'd saved her... Just in time.

"What the hell, Ashlyn?" he yelled, enraged by her rash actions. "Are you crazy? Did you even hear me last time?"

Ashlyn couldn't come up with a response. Her short breaths were erratic and her eyes gleamed in the faint light created by a barred window above them. Roland's rage started to diminish at the sight, but he continued.

"You wish you'd never hatched? _Seriously_?" Roland couldn't believe the things she'd tried to tell herself. "What in the Ancestors is wrong with you? Why would you even _think_ of doing that to yourself?"

Through his furious shouting, he heard a sniffle from Ashlyn's end. His fiery mood waned. He kept on going, a sigh slipping out of his maw.

"Ash, you're better than this. I know you are. _You_ know you are... Alright?"

She didn't give a verbal answer, but he saw her nod slightly. Roland carefully lifted himself from her. She got to her feet, shaking a little.

"It's okay," he said, "just... don't do that again."

Ashlyn spoke, her voice trembling. "R-Roland... I... I'm..."

Roland put a claw to her muzzle, silencing her. "Don't be, Ash."

Ashlyn looked as if she was trying to calm herself down, attempting to slow her ragged breaths. He wasn't feeling very relaxed, but showing those feelings was only going to worsen the situation. Roland put on a brave face for her.

"Just take a deep breath." He placed a paw on her back, trying his best to be reassuring. "In... and out."

She seemed dubious, but tried his advice. She took one big, quavering breath, held it for a few moments, before quickly letting it out. Again, she repeated the steps, her rapid gasps steadying. A weak but warm smile pulled at his mouth.

"Are you okay?" he asked her. Ashlyn nodded, but he wasn't too sure if it was a lie or not. He let it slip for a while.

She gave him a glance before moving to sit down by herself. He kept a close eye on her, if only to see if she was actually fine. Just in case... He didn't think she would attempt anything else, but it was best to make sure. He quietly paced over to the corner of the room, laying down on his stomach.

Roland was surprised nobody had heard the shouting from outside the wooden cell. Or maybe they were too afraid to check on a couple of dragons? He would've chuckled at the notion if not for the previous occurrence.

He watched as she wiped a paw across her eyes before feeling the spot she'd picked at. The spot still oozed the tiniest amount of red. She licked her sharp nails clean.

Now that their voices weren't creating noise, Roland could hear vague sounds coming from outside. The almost inaudible bustle of the village's inhabitants, low mutterings between Atlawa, a ball being kicked and kids playing. He wasn't used to this kind of atmosphere in a town. It all seemed so peaceful, unlike places he'd been to earlier.

Faint footsteps could be heard growing in volume from around the corner. Roland turned his head towards the bars. An Atlawa happened to walk up to them, carrying a plate of food. He was unsure of what it was, but he could definitely use a quick bite.

"I brought you a meal," she exclaimed. "Nobody else wanted to. Between you and me, they were too scared to serve a dragon."

Roland chose to answer her. Ashlyn looked... incapable.

"Too scared? There's nothing to be scared about." He glanced around the room. "We're in a cell."

"I tried to tell them that." The Atlawa rolled her eyes. "Oh well... Here you go."

She pushed the food under a small compartment in the bars before walking off. Roland treaded up to it, trying to figure out what it might be. There was a lot of red and green. Maybe a collection of berries? It wasn't a tender steak, but it was a meal nonetheless

Roland would've already gobbled it up if not for Ashlyn's presence. He knew she needed it more right now. After dragging the mahogany plate across the floorboards with his tail, he set it down in front of her. She didn't look too surprised, but quietly thanked him.

He took a few of the red things off the plate and was able to confirm they were some kind of berry. Their appearance was similar to that of the fruits Darryl had given him back in his cottage...

Darryl... Where had Darryl run off to? He did say he was going back home, but were the things he needed to get done back there so urgent that he had to leave immediately? Roland couldn't imagine sitting around at home, maybe getting a few chores done, to be very important. He couldn't think of a reason as to why the deer would want to abandon them so suddenly.

Well, he wouldn't be able to fly to Tall Plains, anyway... But he had no idea about the plan in the first place and had left before Roland explained it to anyone. He was irritated by the sheer amount of unanswered questions he had. The deer's actions seemed a little suspicious...

He shook his head, deciding to not worry about Darryl. He shoved one of the berries into his open maw. It was quite sweet to taste. Roland found himself gobbling them up speedily.

Ashlyn ate a lot more than him. She seemed like she was starving for something decent. Of course, berries weren't what you would call a decent meal for a dragon, but he appreciated the offer from the Atlawa.

Soon, night settled in. Their room had gone dark and the barely audible sounds of the village had vanished. He started to wonder about how long he was going to spend in the gaol cell.

The day had flown by briskly; he spent the time thinking about what Ashlyn had told him before. Were the assassinations her fault if Aurus had forced her to comply? The first answer he came to was no, but then he remembered she'd started to kill others for no reason at all... Why would she do that?

Well, that was the thing. She said no reason... Just thinking about all the lives she must've ended made him feel queasy.

At least she'd stopped being an assassin now. She didn't expect forgiveness, but he'd given it to her, anyway. Ashlyn had saved him from what would've been certain death on multiple occasions. That was more than enough to earn his pardon.

Roland looked momentarily at Ashlyn. She sat in the pale moonlight from the small window in the corner, gazing into the faint outline of the celestial moons above. Soon, she caught him staring at her. He gave her a soft grin, his cheeks warming. Ashlyn returned it, albeit weakly.

Roland decided to get up and join her. Participating in conversation seemed more interesting than laying around, bored.

He paced over, taking a seat right next to her. She seemed perplexed, but let him do so.

"Hello," he greeted her. Ashlyn rolled her eyes.

"Hey," she responded.

"Do you mind if I sit here?"

"Eugh, it's Roland..." She feigned a gag. He gave her a jokingly hurt expression. Before replying, he did notice she'd cheered up a bit since their last experience. That made him joyful.

"I'm sorry, I'll take my leave..." He got up, grinning like a fool. Ashlyn pulled him back to the ground, looking as if she was trying to hide her own smile. "Yeah, don't smile, Ashlyn."

She buried her head in her paws, snickering all the while. "Oh, stop it..."

After the teasing came to a stop, Roland looked up into the moons with Ashlyn for a moment. He would've loved to see the display in its full glory. Tonight seemed particularly impressive from the small view he had.

Something softly touched his side. Roland almost sniggered when he realised Ashlyn was leaning against him, but he managed to keep himself composed. After adjusting his own position slightly, he felt pretty comfortable laying with her.

He had the most amazing idea at that moment. Carefully, he lifted a wing, making sure he didn't distract Ashlyn with the movement. Then he gently wrapped it around her. She seemed startled by his touch, but eventually let out a low giggle. Roland was happy to know that she wasn't going to push him away. He slowly pulled her in closer.

The red dragon was fond of hanging out with her like this. He felt like he could just let go of everything. As if there wasn't a single worry in the world...

"The stars are pretty tonight," Ashlyn said later that night.

"If only I was actually out there... I love the stars." Roland peered into the marvellous spectacle through the window once more. It was like the work of an artist; the sky being the canvas to a deep hue of purple, brightened by strokes of yellow. It was calming, yet very alluring. He felt at peace just watching it.

"Me too..." Ashlyn let out another yawn.

"Getting tired?" he asked. She nodded.

"Yeah..."

A minute passed. He was feeling quite sleepy himself. Maybe he could nod off right now? Just maybe...

Roland glanced at Ashlyn and noticed she'd begun to slumber right on his shoulder. He felt a little awkward. And he probably wouldn't be able to move without waking her...

However, there was a much bigger part of him that wanted to stay with her. She seemed... happy laying there with him. That was all it took for him to accept her presence.

He soon dozed off, snuggling against Ashlyn. For whatever reason, he enjoyed the comfort she gave him. Just knowing she was there filled him with happiness...

* * *

"Psst... Hey, you."

Roland groggily opened his eyes to the sound of a voice. He noticed the sun hadn't risen yet. In fact, it seemed like he hadn't gotten even an hour's sleep.

"Hm?" he murmured quietly, gazing over at the voice's origin. He noticed an Atlawa standing in front of the bars of his cell.

"Yeah, you," they said, ushering him over. Roland rubbed his eyes.

"What do you want?" he asked tiredly. The Atlawa glared at him.

"Hurry up. Unwrap yourself from that poor dragoness."

Roland held back his own angry look before doing as he commanded. He carefully laid her against the floorboards, trying to keep her asleep. Fortunately, he managed to pull the risky manoeuvre off.

He padded over to them quietly. Roland was able to recognise them as male. He looked elderly, perhaps in his fifties. A black apron was tied around his neck and waist and a long pair of brown trousers covered his legs.

"What is it?" Roland questioned the llama again.

"I guess I'll get to the point... I'm here to get you out."

The red dragon was surprised by that. "Why would you want to bust us out? Aren't you breaking the law?

The Atlawa reached into his greasy apron's breast pocket and pulled out a set of shiny keys. "I'll explain once we get back home. For now, we need to go, dragon."

"Okay..." Roland was still very bewildered. "L-Let me get Ashlyn first."

He quickly walked back over to her before calling her name softly. She woke up, groaning quietly.

"Has anyone ever said you feel like timber?" she mumbled exhaustedly. Roland struggled to hold back a grin at her comment.

"Well, you might be laying on the floor..."

"W-What?" She realised she was doing exactly that. "Roland... What the-"

"Ashlyn, you need to get up," he hurriedly interrupted her. "We're going."

"We're going?" she repeated. "Where? We're locked up right now."

Roland face-pawed. "Just follow me..." He hauled her to her feet; she yelped in response. He led her over to the llama. She seemed about as stunned as he was when he saw the prison keys.

"Hello, young lady." The Atlawa bowed before her presence. Roland frowned, irritated that he didn't receive such a formal introduction. "My name is Alevor. I'm here to get you out."

Ashlyn raised a brow at his weird greeting. "Hi?"

"I guess we don't have much time." Alevor put the key in its rightful position. After turning it slightly to the right, there was a resounding click and the thick wooden door swung open. "Let's get going, shall we?"

The ice dragoness still appeared to be very confused; she followed him out, anyway. Roland felt a little sceptical, but he easily managed to convince himself that this was their only ticket to freedom. He found himself closely trailing behind the llama.

They moved down a short hallway and around a quick bend. Roland noticed the body of an unconscious Atlawa, most likely downed by Alevor. He took the shiny set of keys and tossed them back to their obvious owner.

"Won't be needing those," the llama muttered to himself. They all took the door leading out of the wooden prison.

Roland was met with a large, almost tribal-looking village, the one he'd briefly seen before. He didn't find himself inspecting the sights very much for he was too occupied trying to get away from them, but he did notice a large statue of some kind. If he wasn't mistaken, it was of a mighty stone golem. According to a few texts he'd skimmed over, the Atlawa worshipped them like gods.

He had to wonder then. If he was trying to escape, what was he doing with one of the llama people? What use was there in hiding in one of their houses? It would only be a matter of time before he was located again. Maybe it was best to ask about Alevor's escape plan?

"So," Roland said, "where are we going?"

Alevor glanced back at him. " _Far_ away from here, dragon."

Roland was glad to hear that. His escape wouldn't be short-lived after all.

There didn't happen to be anyone guarding the village at the time they were running through it. Then again, who would go out of their way to attack such a small place? Maybe Drevon? That seemed unintelligent, though. Warfang was at least a way to get rid of others. Incinerating such a tiny area wasn't going to do them much good. Avalar seemed like a much better target for something along those lines...

He felt a little nauseous thinking about everyone in his original hometown burning to a cinder. Word of Warfang's decimation had to have gotten around by now. The people would have to be prepared for another siege of that kind. Considering how powerful Avalar's army is, he had no doubt that they would succeed. Of course, Warfang had quite the amazing military, but they were unprepared for such a huge air assault. It was difficult to not be carefree in these peaceful times...

Well, these once peaceful times...

Maybe Drevon had already been taken care of? Roland would like to think so, but the chances seemed slim.

He was knocked from his pondering when he accidentally ran into fat leaf. It was like a huge, wet slap to the face. He thought he might've heard a snigger from Ashlyn; he narrowed his eyes towards her, which caused only more chortling. He continued his run, feeling more or less embarrassed.

They were far into the Tall Plains jungles, the village now having vanished from view. He was joyful to be so distant from the gaol. Never again did he want to spend precious time locked away like that.

For someone in their fifties, Alevor sure could run. Roland struggled to keep up with the quick leaps and bounds he made over fallen logs and other debris. He felt himself running out of breath.

"Can we stop running?" he said, panting. "We've gotten away from them now."

"It's only a few hundred metres now." Alevor didn't stop his rapid sprinting. "Lay off the pastries, you fat oaf."

Ashlyn was unable to contain her laughter. Despite being at his expense, he couldn't be mad. If Ashlyn was happy, he was happy. He definitely didn't want another yesterday. Just thinking about that, about the claw cutting away at her scales, about the blood slowly coursing down her neck... The teary-eyed stare she'd given him...

Roland shivered. No, he most certainly didn't want that again. Well, at least she was okay now.

Soon, their short journey through the jungle ended and Alevor had finally stopped running.

"There she is," he said, pointing forward. "My home."

The llama was right; in front of them lay a cozy house. It was unlike the huts back in the Atlawa village, looking more modern than its tribal counterparts. An arched roof, smoke billowing from a chimney, nicely tanned wooden walls and an amazing porch to boot. Roland couldn't wait to see the inside, judging by just how great it looked from the outside.

Before following Alevor up the steps to the door, he noticed a couple of sheds on either side of the house. He couldn't peer inside of them, but there was a lot of scrap metal surrounding each one. At least, from his distance, he thought it was scrap.

"Ladies first," Alevor said, letting Ashlyn inside. She seemed a little surprised by how much of a gentleman he was. Roland only put a paw to his forehead, annoyed by his constant use of courtesy.

The inside of the house was more peculiar than what he'd first imagined it to look like. The thing that sparked his curiosity was a forge accompanied by an anvil right in the back of the squarish room they were in. Furthermore, there were shelves holding various objects: metal ingots, swords... guns? Roland hadn't seen very many of those around. Considering the great difficulty in crafting such a potent weapon, it wasn't really a surprise. To see so many in one place was shocking, though.

Other than the _mostly_ normal stuff on the shelves, there were a few bizarre items. For instance, there was a complete metallic replica of a dragon's paw. It looked a little bigger than one of his. Roland frowned at that.

Weirder still, a hollowed out sphere on two iron legs could be spotted in the corner. Levers and buttons could be seen inside, connected to some kind of circuitry in the top. A machine? He'd never seen anything like it before.

Roland realised that Alevor was a blacksmith, and most likely an inventor as well. The attire should've given it away, but he was too focused on breaking out of gaol at the time. He was loving every inch of the room. He wanted to lay a claw on every weapon and gadget.

"Make yourselves at home." Alevor scratched the base of his neck. "It's not much..."

"It's not much?" Roland exclaimed, amazed. "There's so much stuff in here. What do you mean? And this is only the first room! Seriously, what is this?" He pointed to the sphere-on-legs. "It's so cool-"

"Okay, settle down, dragon." Alevor looked irritated. "Really, it's not much..."

"No, Roland's right," Ashlyn said, walking up to a few of the shelves, gazing at the marvellous display of items. She obviously shared Roland's newfound love for the smithy. "This stuff is amazing. How do you do all of this?"

"I'm just a simple blacksmith, I swear." Roland was annoyed by Alevor's modesty. He was clearly so much more than that.

"I've never seen so many weapons in one place... Is that a paw?" Ashlyn grasped the curiosity in her own paws, inspecting it. "Where did you find the inspiration?"

"Well, I guess I should be getting to that." Alevor looked through a large, arched door on the far right of the room before yelling out, "Nara, they're here!"

Roland looked towards the arched doorways he was examining. Soon, a yellowy dragoness paced out, a small smile plastered to her face. Another dragon? Roland didn't think he would see a single dragon at Tall Plains. Most lived on the main continent...

"This is Nara," he remarked. "She's not much of a talker, but she means well."

Nara inclined her head, silently greeting them. The red dragon felt as if something was off. She seemed strangely familiar... He couldn't quite place a claw on it yet, but that hunch was there. He inspected her further, trying to pay attention to the ongoing discussion.

"You see, Nara's quite special," Alevor went on. "She doesn't say much physically, but she can speak through your dreams... Enter them somehow. She tried to explain it to me once, but it was too confusing for me. Dragon magic is so much different to this here forge..."

Alevor straightened himself. "Well, she called you here. I don't know of the reason, she just told me to go to the prison and bring back its prisoners."

Nara offered a slight grin at his explanation of her. Meanwhile, Roland had only just figured out who she was...

It was that dragoness from his dreams, back when he'd seen an illusion of her at Old Maiden's. The dream he'd first heard Drevon's accursed name. The time he'd seen her die before his very eyes, when he couldn't save her from burning in Avalar... How was a figment of his vast imagination standing before him? Was Nara trying to send him a message before? So many unanswered questions...

"You..." Roland pointed towards the yellow dragoness. "I've seen you before."

Ashlyn and Alevor both seemed a little surprised by his accusation. Nara, however, gave him a knowing nod.

"How do you know her?" Ashlyn questioned him, looking doubtful. "We've never been here before."

Roland was about to explain his reasoning when Nara gave him a glare. He took that as a sign that she didn't want him to say anything about the matter.

"And where would you know her from?" Alevor asked. "She's always been here at Tall Plains. I get the feeling this is your first time here... So what gives?"

"I'll tell you later," he said. The llama didn't seem convinced.

"What do you make of this, my lady?" Alevor looked at Nara. They looked as if they were somehow communicating with their eyes. Or maybe she was sending him her thoughts? It seemed possible, knowing what the dragoness was capable of.

After a couple of seconds standing in awkward silence, the Atlawa blacksmith spoke up. "She says we should talk about it in the morning. There's a few beds in there." He then motioned towards the arched doorway Nara had walked out of.

"Make yourselves comfortable." With that said, Alevor paced off. He moved out of the smithy through a door his size on the opposite side of the arched door. Roland sighed.

After some deliberation, he let Nara escort him and Ashlyn through the arched door. He was greeted by a large space. As promised, there were beds among other things. A few desks, a particularly large closet and more little contraptions. The thing that caught his eye, however, was a glowing bulb hanging from the ceiling. He was unsure of what it was, but it looked to be lighting the room. Roland thought it was pretty neat.

Nara, with another bow of her head, let them choose a position to sleep in. He liked her kind nature, but couldn't help but feel odd standing around somebody he'd witnessed die, even if it was in his dreams. He made an effort to ignore that feeling before deciding on a bed.

Roland treaded over to a big, red one. He leaped on top and was happy with its softness, pulling the covers over himself. He remembered how cold it was...

Ashlyn walked over to a bed next to his and seated herself on top of it without actually getting under the blankets. Nara followed suit and moved to the bed furthest from them. She looked like she was giving them space...

As Nara flicked a switch near her bed, the room went as black as the night outside. A small amount of moonlight seeped in through the window, making Ashlyn slightly visible, but it wasn't enough to see much else.

Roland felt unsafe then. He was about to sleep in a total stranger's home. As he thought that, his mind refused to shut down.

He did observe Ashlyn a little. She hadn't moved to lay on her side, instead choosing to sit on her haunches.

"Are you staying awake?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah," she answered, "you can go to sleep if you want. I'm going to watch."

He was relieved at that moment. At least he could drift off without having to worry about himself. There was a thought that irked him, though.

"Are you going to be okay?" He was still nervous after the occurrence in the cell. Ashlyn quickly nodded, getting the memo.

"Yep. I'll be fine... I might wake you up later."

Roland smiled at that, even if she wasn't able to see it. He took her word for it and slowly closed his eyes.


	14. Shot Down

Shot Down

Rather than waking up to Ashlyn's voice, Roland opened his eyes to the morning's light. He was confused, remembering what she'd told him the night before. He rubbed at his eyes, turning his gaze to the ice dragoness.

Roland couldn't help but grin at the sight. Ashlyn had fallen asleep last night; she was on her back, wings spread out across the bed, breaths coming steadily from her maw.

Of course, he was also feeling a little nervous wondering about what could've happened the night before. She'd just risked both of their lives for a few hours of sleep. But he could forgive her for that. They weren't dead, so there wasn't much reason in worrying.

There came a noisy banging sound from the main room. He figured it was Alevor working the forge. He would love to go and investigate further, but he wasn't in the mood to get out of bed yet.

After turning onto his side, he looked over to the third dragoness in the room, Nara, still sleeping soundly despite the loud noise... What was her deal? Why did she want them here? There were no answers yet, but hopefully later. He would have to question Alevor.

He spotted a small bookshelf next to the yellow dragon's bed. It was packed with novels and tomes. The titles weren't readable from his distance; maybe he could ask her about them? She might even let him borrow a book... The red dragon played with the idea.

A silent groan came from Ashlyn's end. He looked towards the dragoness, watching her slowly open her eyes.

"Good morning," he said, trying to supress another smile. "Sleep well?"

"Ye-" Ashlyn immediately cut herself off, realising she didn't follow through on what she'd told him. "Oh... crap."

Roland noticed her expression changing to one of shock. She put her head in her paws, now babbling apologies.

"Ancestors, I'm stupid..." She lifted her gaze, now peering at him. "I'm sorry... So sorry..."

Roland gave her a dumb look. "Don't start over exaggerating now..."

"No, Roland I-"

"Stop." He had half a mind to chastise Ashlyn, but instead raised a claw to shush her, thinking better of it. He couldn't help but chuckle quietly. "It's fine... I forgive you."

She cast her eyes towards the bed she was on as if wanting to appear at least a little guilty, but he was able to find the faintest smile on the corners of her muzzle. Roland stuck his tongue out at her, only causing Ashlyn's slight smirk to grow in size.

"Yeah... Okay..."

"Good." Roland threw the covers off himself, jumped out of bed. A few minutes of stretching later and he was ready to check on Alevor. He proceeded to walk into the forge.

The llama was there hammering a piece of glowing metal on the anvil, just like he'd expected. That weird machine he'd seen earlier was now right next to him. The red dragon suspected it was his current project.

Casually, he paced up to him and waved. "Hi."

The llama grunted in response, continuing to strike the iron. Sparks flew as the rod he was working on bent into shape.

"So what is this?" Roland asked, curious.

"Just a little thing I've been working on." Alevor stopped bashing the rod and picked it up with a pair of tongs. "That should do it..."

"Do you... have a name for it?" Roland inspected the machine now. He was unsure of what to make of it.

"Nope... Hey, grab that mask while you're over there." Alevor motioned towards a rack near the forge, a welding mask hanging from it. Roland quickly followed the llama's orders.

He grasped it in his paws for a few moments, inspecting its normal appearance, before tossing it to Alevor. The Atlawa caught and strapped it to his face.

Using the tongs, Alevor picked up the iron and cooled it down in a wooden barrel full of water. He paced back over to the machine, metal in paw. Close to the forge was a box, and attached to said box was a strange pistol. Roland figured it was a welder, but he'd never seen one that looked like that... It was safe to say he hadn't seen a lot of the things contained within these walls.

Alevor turned a few knobs on the box. An almost inaudible whirring could be heard from the inside.

"You might want to close your eyes, dragon," Alevor exclaimed, holding the welder and the iron rod close to the machine. Roland did as he was asked.

There was a split second of quietness. It was replaced quickly by an incredibly loud zap. He could make out bright flickering lights through his tightly closed eyelids. It continued on and off for quite a while, but it eventually came to a halt.

Slowly, he let himself see once more, trying to discern what Alevor had done to his project. It took some searching, but he managed to find the rod now attached securely to a groove in the right leg.

"What did you do that for?" Roland asked, trying his best to have it not come off as rude.

"Gods, you have a lot of questions..." Alevor pulled the mask off of his face, wiping perspiration from his furry forehead. "It's support for the leg. Don't want it toppling over when it moves."

He nodded. That made enough sense...

Roland watched as Alevor grabbed another piece of bent metal and shoved it into the fiery forge. He grabbed his hammer again, preparing himself to start striking again. A noise from the outside interrupted him.

There was a knock at the door.

Alevor instantly pointed towards the bedroom. "Go. I'll get the door."

Roland was bewildered for a moment before he realised what was happening. He wasn't supposed to be out of gaol yet...

He ran back through the arched doorway and swiftly made it to Ashlyn. She was still sitting comfortably on her bed, leaning up against the bedhead.

"We need to hide," he muttered. Ashlyn looked at him, befuddled.

"What? What do you-"

"We have visitors."

Ashlyn knew what that meant straightaway. She pointed to the large closet, getting up.

"In there." She ran. He followed briskly. Opening the closet door, she jumped inside. There were a few odd items on the container's floor – he frowned when he saw medical supplies – but they weren't enough to stop him. He slammed the door shut.

Darkness.

It was cramped inside the closet, but that hardly mattered. He was as quiet as a mouse, sitting and waiting for whatever was to come next. Soon enough, he heard distant voices.

"Myrtle?" Alevor's voice came first, naming the visitor. Roland was already worried about that.

"Hey, Alevor!" she said cheerfully. "I just came to ask if you've seen those two prisoners."

"Prisoners?" he asked, making himself seem surprised. "What do you mean? There hasn't been a prisoner here for decades."

"You haven't seen anything?"

Roland could just picture Alevor frowning at her. "Nope."

"Well, that's a shame... Mind if I take a look, anyway?"

"I really don't think that's necess-"

"Thank you!" Roland heard stamping from the inside, hastily coming towards his position. He made extra sure that he wasn't making even the quietest of sounds. Ashlyn shuffled nervously next to him, but continued to say nothing.

This wasn't going well...

"Myrtle-" Again, Alevor was cut off.

"Look, madman." Myrtle's tone suddenly changed to one of annoyance. "I'm just having a look-see. I've checked everyone else..."

"Seriously, Myrtle. Get out of my house."

"As your leader, I have the right..."

Alevor was definitely losing his patience by now. "Leader? You're hardly my leader. You kicked me out of your silly clan."

That remark seemed to really get to Myrtle, because her quick pacing came to a halt. "You take that back..."

"I'm sorry, Myrtle, but it's true."

"Well, we got rid of you when you started making those stupid gadgets..."

"And how was that a problem again?"

Roland heard Myrtle snarling aggressively. "Because you were breaking Atlawa tradition."

There was a hint of smugness in Alevor's voice. "I was breaking tradition by trying to improve your quality of life? By trying to make things better for _us_ as a tribe? No, Myrtle-"

"We aren't a race of mechanics, madman!" she yelled out. "We're perfectly fine as is! We don't need those iron weapons. We don't need... whatever that is!"

He figured she was talking about the strange machine Alevor was spending most of his time on. "Last time I checked, you weren't one of the Atlawa, Myrtle..."

"And what the hell do you mean by that? I rose to leadership! They say I'm just like one of them... You're less of an Atlawa than me!"

The exchange was absolutely ridiculous now. Roland wanted to just push on the doors and waltz into the argument's vicinity just so he could stop them. Of course, that seemed like the most unintelligent thing he could do. He stayed put, if only to see how long this belligerent quarrel would last.

"You're such a hypocrite. You were the one who built those sticks they call weapons... Don't say you aren't guilty of breaking the tradition."

"That was to fend off those robed people! You know that..."

"My point still stands, Myrtle."

The green dragoness roared, outraged. "I don't give a damn! Let me complete my search, you moron!"

Alevor was obviously still standing in her way. "No, you get out of my home."

There came a noise other than the argument. A blast echoed all over the house. Roland knew this had gone too far now.

He swung open the closet door, much to Ashlyn's surprise. "What the hell are you doing?" she hissed.

"Stopping that argument." Before Ashlyn could complain, he sprinted out of the room.

When he reached the scene, he ceased his run and gaped when he saw the events unfolding in front of him. Myrtle had quite easily hit Alevor, blasting him back into the wall with her element. She was now slowly advancing towards him, failing to notice Roland's presence.

"Why can't you just let me take a look? Why are you even like this?" Myrtle questioned him angrily. "What made you want to do this?"

Alevor didn't utter a word, too busy groaning and massaging his side. Roland stood there, dumbstruck by the ensuing fight.

Myrtle was almost upon Alevor. Ashlyn had caught up to Roland, looking just as surprised as he was. He also noticed Nara in the corner of his eye, at a door on the other end of the hall. She looked... scared.

Myrtle was fuming, looking like she was about to lash out at Alevor. There was nothing Roland could do to stop her. It was too late now...

But, as shocking as it was, he didn't have to do a single thing about it. The llama took the matter into his own hands.

Alevor quickly pulled a firearm out from behind him. He pulled the trigger once and a resounding blast erupted from the gun's barrel. Myrtle was sent tumbling across the floor, crying out in pain.

The short battle ended as speedily as it had begun. Alevor was panting deep, heavy breaths. Myrtle was unmoving... Was she dead? Roland wanted to say no, but he wasn't sure yet...

Just as he was thinking that, a wheezy splutter came from the green dragoness. A bit of red escaped her muzzle... Fortunately, she wasn't gone yet, but he wasn't sure how long that luck would last.

"Alevor? W-What was that?" Ashlyn asked, worry flashing across her face.

He didn't answer her question, instead deciding to speak to the other dragon in the room. "Nara... Get me some spirit gems..."

Roland took a few steps forward and managed to see the damage done to Myrtle. Her chest... It was covered in tiny holes, oozing little droplets of red. They didn't seem fatal, but he felt sick to the stomach peering at such a thing.

He turned his head to Nara, who hadn't moved an inch. She was shaking...

"Nara! Hurry up!" Alevor yelled. Nara turned and ran from the room immediately. The Atlawa got off the floor, throwing the weapon he'd used to the side. He knelt over Myrtle.

She sounded like she was struggling to breathe. A tear slipped out of her eye.

"You," Alevor said calmly, pointing at him. "Go get some bandages, just in case... There's a few in that closet."

Roland didn't hesitate for a second. He hurried to the bedroom and swung open the closet door's. As he'd taken note of earlier, there were bits and pieces everywhere. Amongst the mess of odd objects were thick white rolls made of cotton.

He took a few in a paw and trotted back. After dropping them at Alevor's feet, he took a position on the other side of Myrtle.

Roland glanced at Ashlyn. She hadn't moved all that much, not unlike Nara when the blacksmith raised his voice. She looked unsure of what to do, as though she was stuck trying to decide. He felt like he knew why...

The dragoness didn't seem to realise he was there with her; her eyes were shut tight. Roland thought that was probably for the best, considering his current standing with her.

Nara quickly padded into the smithy, setting the crystals she had next to Alevor.

"Is that all?" he asked. There were only two red gems. "Really?"

Nara nodded, despondent, before pacing away. Alevor let out an irritated sigh.

"It'll have to do." The llama snatched up the gemstones, then threw them both onto the floor, sending little red shards everywhere. They were absorbed into Myrtle, being the nearest injured dragon. She gasped for air, finally able to breathe properly. The holes on her chest stopped bleeding, as well, now looking like only mere scrapes. Roland was surprised by just how well they'd healed her.

Myrtle slowly opened her eyes. The first thing she seemed to catch a glimpse of was Alevor. Then she turned her eyes to Roland, and as he'd expected, she was astounded.

"I-It's... you. That red dragon with-" She stopped when she groaned, trying to get off the floor.

"Stay down for a sec," Alevor told her. He grabbed the bandages next to him and started wrapping them around her torso. "Can you lean up while I tie this around you?"

Myrtle nodded and did what he asked of her. "Yeah..."

The llama was careful to not touch her sharp spines or her chest whilst trying to fix her up her. Roland was left to wonder about how many skills this Atlawa might have other than blacksmithing.

"Are you okay to stand? I can get you to a bed if you'd like." He finished the job by tying a little bow on her side. He tried to lend her a hand.

The green dragoness sighed. "Yeah, I'd appreciate that."

Roland was now surprised by the kindness he was showing her, especially after that fierce argument. In fact, he was astonished more so by her willingness to accept his offer. It was strange behaviour, but he didn't complain. She looked like she would need the rest.

Alevor carefully lifted the dragoness to her feet and she leaned against his hip. They didn't limp to the bedroom like he'd expected, rather the door Nara had been through to collect spirit gems.

"Do you need any help?" Roland called after Alevor. The Atlawa shook his head.

"No, it's alright."

Ashlyn had disappeared from the room. Maybe she'd moved away as to not be seen by Myrtle? That sounded reasonable. He could look for her later.

He watched them both walk off into the other room. Only he and Nara were left standing in the room. She was staring into the floor, still looking a bit frightened.

"Hey," he said, pacing towards her. "Are you alright?"

Nara turned her head to him and gave a weak smile. Roland wasn't sure how genuine it was, but he returned the gesture, anyway.

"Yeah, pretty frightening stuff. I'm surprised she's not dead..."

At that, Nara's smile vanished. He flexed his claws awkwardly, trying to think up something else he could say to lighten the tension. There were many things on his mind, but he decided on topic that'd been bugging him throughout the morning.

"I've been meaning to ask Alevor, but he's not around right now..." He ran a paw through his frills. "Can you explain those dreams I've had about you?"

She didn't seem taken aback. Actually, she looked like she'd been expecting it. He was happy to see her nod at his request, as odd as it was to ask a mute dragon a question.

Nara led him to the large bedroom once more. She soon sat down behind a desk near her bed. Yellowed parchment littered its surface and a bottle full of black ink was positioned just left of the papers. Roland stared at the desk, then the dragoness. She glanced at him, as if waiting for him to ask something.

"Um..." He put a claw to his chin. "What were those dreams for?"

Nara dipped her claw inside the flask before jotting down words on the parchment. Her writing was quite magnificent; a quick stroke here, a beautiful swirl there. He started to follow the letters she was putting down.

 _'They were warnings. Or at least they were supposed to be. You didn't really get the idea, but part of that is my fault. The connection to you was too far away. Actually, the connection to everyone wasn't good enough for a clear broadcast.'_

"There were more?" he questioned. Nara swirled her claw inside the inky bottle again before continuing.

 _'There weren't many. My powers are limited... Really, I just chose others at random, knowing people were going to... you know. So you're just lucky. Although, you never really gave the dreams much thought. That must make you super lucky.'_

She put a little smiley face at the end, to which he chuckled at. "That would mean you can see the future as well, then."

' _Kind of. Sometimes, the visions I receive are wrong. I'm no fire dragon, so a pool of visions won't do much for me. That was just one of the times they were right... That whole "Drevon" thing is scary.'_

"What do you know about them?" Roland asked, interested about her knowledge on the subject. She shrugged, writing her thoughts down on the paper once more.

 _'It's hazy. I can only remember their name and seeing a dash of purple. Oh, and I could also see them. Metallic... As you can tell, I'm not too sure about them. But, considering what they did to Warfang, they're probably plotting something...'_

Roland glanced worriedly at her. "Like what?"

 _'It could be another Dark Master, although the chances of that are highly unlikely. Purple dragons don't exist anymore... I wouldn't worry about it, Roland. The cities on the main continent are more than capable of taking care of the situation. Drevon is insignificant in comparison to even the smaller cities. Word has already spread of their existence and I can see moles and dragons working together to fortify their cities... Don't fret, Warfang was just unprepared for such a raid. It won't be so devastating next time, if they even try again.'_

"But you said your visions were sometimes wrong..."

 _'No, this one's clear. And it's common sense, as well. Why wouldn't you try to defend against something that destroyed the entirety of Warfang? Every cannon would be up, so those dreadwings wouldn't get far. And how does an army of ground units get past an even bigger army of dragons? It would be futile trying an attack on another city now.'_

Roland sighed, trying to agree with her. He was mostly persuaded, but a small part of his mind wanted to think Drevon would somehow get past the huge fortifications made... Maybe he'd read through too many stories where others win against impossible odds? That was probably it. He was addicted to fantasy...

The writing was also getting tedious for him to read over... Roland sighed.

"That's all I want to ask. Thanks, Nara."

She nodded, smiling. After wiping her ink-stained claw on the edge of the page, she went to sit down on her bed.

Roland later decided to go outside. He wanted something to gaze at other than the forge, regardless of how interesting he found the tools and appliances constructed by Alevor. And his wings were just yearning for a flight. Maybe Ashlyn was out there somewhere, as well.

He put a paw on the front door's golden handle and twisted it, swinging it open. He was greeted by an area smothered in thick layers of snow. A wave of chilliness met the warmth of his body. He knew it was winter already, but this had somehow happened overnight. Even then, Tall Plains wasn't known for its snowiness... These were peculiar circumstances indeed.

Roland was about to take his first step onto the porch, but stopped when he saw a long red fabric hanging from a hook next to the front door. It looked warm... He glanced around the room, making sure nobody was around, before snatching it up and sprinting outside, a cheerful grin on his face.

He leaped off the front porch and into the air, quickly tying his new scarf around his neck. It flapped wildly in the breeze. The red dragon was happy with the heat the dense fabric offered him. He knew he was going to have a more pleasant experience with it.

Roland shot through the frozen jungle trees, covering his scales thinly in snow. He shook himself off before effortlessly performing a loop in the air. Then, he flew forwards, putting all of his energy into going as blisteringly fast as possible. It was nowhere near Nelly's speed, but he was proud of the distance he was making. He felt like he'd never gone so quickly in his life before...

Now he wanted to challenge Ashlyn to a race, to avenge himself from the previous loss he'd had going to Warfang. He was determined to win at such a thing.

Thinking about that made him start gazing at the ground. As much as he looked , however, there wasn't a sign of her. She was probably in another room in the blacksmith. He hadn't explored it in its entirety yet.

It didn't take him long to expend all of his energy. His wings ached slightly and quick breaths broke out of his muzzle. He thought about going back to the blacksmith, but it was too distant on the horizon to fly to after tiring himself. Plus, there was a beautiful area on the ground; a tiny plateau in a small clearing. The land around him was quite marvellous.

Roland landed and came to rest atop it. He did take a few brief seconds to look for Ashlyn, but he ended up taking in the area instead, unable to find her.

The white jungle was vast, almost endless, around him. It was so big, in fact, that he started to realise just how huge of an undertaking it would be to find that treasure. It could take weeks, maybe even months, before he even got a general idea of its location...

He was committed to finding it, though. He would do anything. The wealth he could acquire came to mind again. Vast amounts of gems and gold, castles and empires... He could possibly become the most powerful dragon in... well, ever. In all of history itself.

But as appealing as that may have sounded, Roland didn't feel like he should be that greedy. A nice home and enough money to set himself up for life would've been fine... He could just as easily do that without a wish, however.

What else could he wish for if that wasn't an option? Happiness? His old life?

His family?

Roland tensed up at the thought. He felt that if he did that, he would leave everything he'd been through behind. He would leave Ashlyn behind...

Despite only knowing her for the short amount of time they'd spent together, he cared for her more than anything. More than anyone... Maybe even more than his parents. And he couldn't bring himself to do that to her. He knew he would regret that decision.

So what else was there? Was this attempt at obtaining whatever he desired going to be fruitless, anyway?

Well, at least he would be able to boast about his achievements. That sounded satisfying enough.

Roland spent the rest of the morning gazing into the deeply wooded distance... There were too many things to think about.


	15. One Huge Apology

One Huge Apology

Darkness had arrived by the time Roland decided to make tracks and head back to Alevor's smithy. Before calling it a day, he'd taken the liberty to explore the many corners of the building, something he'd been yet to do and something he probably should've done earlier.

It was relatively big in size, certainly larger than those measly huts back in the village. There was what you'd expect from a house through the door Nara had found those spirit gems; a nice kitchen, a clean bathroom, two more bedrooms (one contained a slumbering Myrtle) and a basement full of old boxes and scrap metal. Other than the marvellous forge through the front, it was quite normal...

Except, that is, for one area he was finding particularly fascinating.

There was a small staircase that led up into a spectacular little room. The starlit sky was displayed through a dome-like window that took up the entire wall in front of him, its edges covered in snow. There was a thick rug below his paws and a tiny table to his right. He'd helped himself to a candle from his temporary bedroom and placed it on the table's surface, illuminating the otherwise dark room.

As of now, he was actually going over a book he'd borrowed from Nara regarding the heavenly bodies on display before him. He'd been learning of the constellations, and was trying to remember their names and positions. For instance, a formation called Cynder could be located left of Spyro's Breath, named after a black dragoness he'd never heard of until now. From what he'd studied, she was Spyro's mate, as well as his ally in the battle against the Dark Master. It was shocking because he thought somebody like that would've been listed somewhere. Apparently not... He had to read a book about the night sky of all things to find out about her. How inconvenient... He'd probably never tried searching for anyone but the purple saviour when he was younger.

He soon put the tome on the table next to him and started to recall the star systems he'd educated himself about one by one. He knew there was no better way to drill something into his skull than repeating them over and over.

"Spyro's Breath. Cynder," he spoke quietly to himself, pointing to each as he named them. "The Red Dragon. Orion..."

Roland grinned after a minute of recalling every star system he'd taught himself about. He went on like that for the next few moments.

A low creak came from the door behind him. He turned his head, distracted by the intrusion. Ashlyn emerged from the staircase, her head bent towards the ground, not noticing he was there. He hadn't seen her since this morning, so her arrival was definitely a pleasant surprise.

"Hey, Ash," he greeted her, smiling cheerfully. "Long time, no see."

Ashlyn was startled by his voice. She immediately raised her head. "Oh, hi... Are you in the middle of something?"

He shook his head, then patted a space on the soft mat beside him. "Nah. Take a seat."

She paced over, an almost unnoticeable smile on her muzzle. Roland shuffled slightly to his right, granting Ashlyn some room as she took the spot next to him.

"So..." Roland gave her a sideways glance. "How are you?"

"Okay, I guess," she answered. "I've had a pretty boring day. I spent most of my time laying around in here, actually."

"That explains why I haven't seen you..."

"Yeah..." Ashlyn cast her gaze to the mat. Roland tapped her side with his wing.

"What's on your mind?" He was easily able to tell she was deep in thought. He knew her too well.

Rather than trying to deny anything was wrong, her usual behaviour, she voiced her thoughts, surprisingly enough. "I'm worried about Myrtle. Once she's out of bed, she's going to look for me... And I don't know what to do."

Ashlyn was right again. Things were still very rough between them. Something had to be done.

"It may sound weird to ask this of _you_ , Roland," she continued, "but do you have any advice?"

Roland was jokingly offended by her statement. Still, he didn't have a clue on how to mend their broken past, or if there was even a way to do so. He sighed.

"Well, you could try apologising," he suggested the first and probably most simple thing that came to mind. "That'd be a good start."

Ashlyn exhaled noisily. "I've already thought about that. I doubt she would just accept an apology."

"It's worth a shot." He placed a paw on one of hers, trying to be reassuring. "Tell her how you feel and I'm sure it'll all be okay... I forgave you, right?"

She peered into the Celestial Moons for a moment, turning her eyes back to him, a small smile tugging at her mouth. "Alright. I'll see what I can do."

Roland returned the smirk and then turned around to gaze at the stars through the transparent dome. He kept going over the constellation names in his head, proud that he could still name them without the use of a tome about astrology.

"What is that you're reading?" Ashlyn questioned him. He grabbed the book wordlessly and sat it in her outstretched paw. " _Volteer's Space and Beyond_? I've seen this one before. It's a good read."

"Yeah, by the old Electric Guardian himself. He has... quite the vocabulary."

Ashlyn chuckled at that. "People called him lightning-mouth for a reason. He was really smart, as well... Still couldn't figure out the Orb's puzzle, though."

Roland was immediately brought back to his time in Avalar. That last day he'd spent trying to thieve that contraption in the old citadel... That had been only weeks ago. He couldn't believe how far he'd come since then.

"I wonder what the answer was..." Roland muttered. Ashlyn nodded in response.

"I've always wondered, as well. Personally, I don't think anyone will ever be able to crack it."

"Yeah..." Roland went silent when he noticed a little white snowflake fall from the sky. The weather became stronger with time; he would've complained about it blocking out his view, but he felt that the slowly descending weather actually added to the picturesque display... It was simply stunning tonight.

Something softly touched his tail. When he glanced back, he noticed Ashlyn's tail now lying atop his. His face warmed up at the sight. He then looked down and was reminded of the paw he'd placed on top of hers. A tiny chuckle escaped his muzzle.

"What's so funny?" Ashlyn asked, sounding amused.

Roland thought about that for a moment before giving her an answer. "You."

"And what's _that_ supposed to mean?" Ashlyn said in-between laughs. A cheeky grin crept onto his face.

"Nothing..."

They sat there for the longest of times, observing the stars, watching the snow fall gracefully from the night sky. A yawn soon slipped out Roland's mouth.

"Getting tired?" Ashlyn said quietly.

"Yup..." Roland glanced back at the door. "I might actually go to bed."

"Aww... I was enjoying this." Ashlyn gave him a small smirk. "Goodnight, Roly."

Roland snickered at the name. It brought back so many memories... "Goodnight... Ashy?"

Ashlyn snorted with laughter before letting go of him. He got to his feet, picking up the candle. "Do you mind if I take this back?" Roland asked her.

"Yeah... I'll probably head down soon, anyway." Ashlyn waved him off. "See you soon."

"Yep..." Roland took a step but Ashlyn interrupted his movements with her voice.

"And, Roland?"

"Hm?" He looked back at her.

She got off the floor and embraced him with her wing. "Thank you for earlier. I don't know what I would do without you."

He offered her another smile. "No problem."

Ashlyn let go of him and proceeded to sit back down, continuing to peer at the dazzling view in front of her. Roland walked off and, with one final glance at her, moved back down the staircase.

* * *

Roland awoke to the smell of freshly prepared food. He opened his eyes, taking in the wonderful scents of tantalising meat and cheese. Alevor was hovering over him, a metal dish topped with foodstuffs in his gloved hands.

"Yeah, I'm an amazing guy, aren't I?" the Atlawa said smugly. "I figured I may as well be a good host and bring you breakfast. Don't expect this everyday, though."

He rubbed at his eyes, his voice layered with tiredness. "Yeah... Thanks, Alevor."

Roland grabbed the plate from his hands and gazed at the items atop it, licking his maw. He wasn't certain of the type of meat, or the cheese for that matter, but he didn't care all that much. It looked so good!

He took a quick bite and instantly found himself immersed in amazing flavours. The meat's delicious, stringy texture, the cheese's hard surface, but creamy and utterly fantastic inside... He could eat this all day long.

"Gosh, you're an outstanding chef, Alevor," he exclaimed in-between mouthfuls of food. "Where did you learn to cook like this?"

"Oh, I'm not the chef," Alevor stated. Roland raised a brow. He explained himself quickly after that. "This is Nara's work. I wouldn't even try to cook meat. Atlawa don't eat it."

Roland continued to dig into his fantastic meal. He would have to thank her later.

Soon, he finished it all off, licking his claws clean and wiping his muzzle. He passed the metal dish back to Alevor.

"Thank you, anyway." He grinned. "I wonder... What kind of meat was that? I'd love to cook that myself one day."

Alevor thought about it for a moment. "If I'm not mistaken, it was deer..."

Roland jerked upright at the words. _Deer_? Guilt swelled up inside of him like a balloon. He felt like he'd eaten a friend...

"A-Are you being serious?" Roland asked, wide-eyed.

"Yes..." Alevor started to wander off, but he turned around to further his reply. "What? Is there something wrong with that?"

Roland would've leapt out of bed and regurgitated the contents of his stomach on the grass outside if Alevor wasn't there with him. What would Darryl think if he found out?

Roland sighed, deciding to keep his feelings to himself. He didn't want to look rude in front of Alevor.

"No... It's okay. I just remembered something, is all."

Alevor frowned. "You are one weird dragon..."

"Aren't we all weird?" A crooked smile pulled at his mouth.

"Yes," Alevor agreed. "Especially those who steal scarves..."

Roland had only just now registered that the thick piece of red fabric he'd 'borrowed' earlier was still tied snugly around his squamous neck. He offered a lame laugh before undoing the tight knot that held it in place and reaching out to hand it back to the llama. Alevor shook his head.

"You can keep it now." Alevor didn't seem to care. "I don't want it."

He was befuddled. "Why is that?"

"Because you've touched it, obviously."

Roland shot him a glare and then shook his head in annoyance, but he couldn't help but chuckle. He did actually manage a reply to that...

"But I touched your high-tech stuff..."

Alevor was immediately defeated. "Shut up, dragon..."

Roland laughed heartily, enjoying his small victory. Even Alevor had a slight smirk on his face. Soon, though, he asked him a question.

"Have you seen Ashlyn around? We were going to cook her something, but I haven't been able to find her in the house."

Roland realised he was right. Ashlyn wasn't in bed, like she'd said she would be yesterday. Maybe she'd fallen asleep under the stars? Or maybe she was trying to apologise to Myrtle at this very moment...

"I saw her yesterday," he answered before asking his own question. "What time is it, Alevor?"

"Around ten; you've slept in. Why do you ask?"

Roland was about to tell him of Ashlyn and Myrtle's past, but thought better of it. He doubted Alevor wanted an assassin skulking around his home... He instantly felt terrible for putting it like that.

"No reason," he lied, "just wanting to know."

Thankfully, his blatant untruth went right through the Atlawa. "Well, alright. I'll take this plate back."

Alevor vanished from the bedroom and left Roland alone. He got out of the warmth of his covers, feeling the cold smack into his scales. He would've instantly snuggled back in if not having a dragoness to look for. Shivering, he exited through the arched doorway...

Before he went to look for Ashlyn, he chose to quickly inspect the project Alevor was working on. Overnight, he'd gotten a ton of work done. The thing now had a pair of bulky half-finished arms and the wiring was, for the most part, connected properly. At least, that was what he thought was the case. Roland couldn't wait to see it plodding along. It seemed almost finished now...

A glint in the corner of his eye disturbed his thoughts. He looked towards it and found himself peering at the dragon paw replica. He paced over and reached for the shelf holding it up, grasping it in his paws.

It wasn't much different from his own paw, now that he'd taken a closer look at it; three sharp claws were connected to a foreleg with a joint allowing for movement. It was surprisingly light to carry, as well. The invention actually seemed functional, as if it was supposed to be used as a prosthetic limb. Roland wondered where Alevor got the inspiration to make such a strange thing; it was pretty useless to an Atlawa, so why would he even bother? Perhaps he could ask about it later?

Roland set it back down where he'd found it and started to head off towards Myrtle's room. He'd wasted enough time gawking at Alevor's masterful work.

Roland passed the iron forge and moved through the next doorway, trying to locate the room Myrtle was occupying for now. He hadn't remembered where everything was, so it took him quite a while to get there – he said hello to Nara when he accidentally entered the kitchen, who did hastily redirect him towards Myrtle's room – but he made it in the end. It seemed as if he was just on time, as well.

He saw the entrance and could hear muffled tones from the other side. Putting his cheek up against the door, he listened attentively to the ensuing conversation. Of course, he considered eavesdropping impolite, but was curious as to what Ashlyn was going to tell Myrtle. He hoped she would be successful in her attempt to express her feelings about Myrtle's sister.

"I wanted to say sorry," the first voice came, clearly Ashlyn's. Well, she was off to a good start...

"Sorry? You want to _apologise_?" Myrtle's voice came next, angry and quite threatening. "Apologising isn't going to bring her back!"

"I know, it's just... I regret everything I did back there... I figured an apology was the least I could do to make up for it."

Roland opened the door slightly enough for him to peek through with one eye. He could see Myrtle positioned on a bed, staring, almost glaring, at Ashlyn, who had her gaze directed towards the floor. Ashlyn didn't seem like she was able to meet Myrtle's eyes.

Myrtle opened her maw to respond, but the words never made it out. After what felt like an awkward silence, Ashlyn decided to continue for her.

"I really wish I could turn back time, Myrtle. I wish I could fix my mistakes... But I just can't." Ashlyn's head bent down further. "So, I'm sorry... I really mean it."

Myrtle's stare remained unchanged, except for the sudden shininess he could spot in her eyes. This topic was obviously a hard one for her to talk about.

Ashlyn lifted her head to look at Myrtle. "So, so sorry... Words can't describe how horrible I feel..."

At that, a single tear rolled down Myrtle's cheek. From what it looked like, Ashlyn had succeeded. He was about to scream out in joy...

Unfortunately, Roland was immediately proven wrong...

"Do you really think _sorry_ is going to cut it?" Myrtle questioned her rhetorically. "Do you seriously think that?"

Ashlyn looked like she was at a loss for words now. Roland could only watch as a distraught Myrtle unloaded a huge rant.

"I can't forgive you... I won't forgive you. Do you know how it feels to lose your family? Do you know how it feels to watch your sister die before your very eyes?"

Ashlyn could come up with an answer to her question, but she didn't. She couldn't say a word; she looked like somebody who'd had their heart broken.

"I-I can tell you, it feels horrible..." The tears were streaming down Myrtle's face and her voice was all over the shop. "A-And then you see her killer right in front of you... D-Do you know how hard it is to not get up and... and attack you right now?"

Ashlyn slowly shook her head, still not speaking. Roland would've gotten involved by now, but he thought it best to leave the situation alone. He was scared of making the argument worse than what it already was.

"I c-can't... I-I h-hate you so much... I... I-" Myrtle quickly began to break down into sobs. Ashlyn fell onto her flank, defeated. Roland understood what the green dragoness was going through; he'd almost wanted to do the exact same as her back on the main continent when he'd learnt of his parents' fate.

"M-Myrtle... I..." Ashlyn was completely incapable of proper communication. Roland knew he would be worse off if he was put in the same position as her...

"G-Get out of my room..." Myrtle said, her voice broken up by her cries.

Ashlyn didn't move an inch. She didn't look like she was able to move an inch. She only stared at her, probably depressed, confused... Devoid of all hope...

"I-" She didn't get a chance to say anything else.

" _NOW_!" Myrtle roared. She proceeded to bury her head in her pillow. Roland bounced back in surprise and Ashlyn paced out of the bedroom door, shutting it noisily on her way out. He caught her eyes for a second, but she didn't pass him a single glance. She treaded out of his sight quickly and quietly, seeming quite angry with herself.

Roland was about to follow her in an attempt to calm her down, but never did in the end. He thought it might be better to leave her to her own devices for a while. She probably needed the time alone.

When he listened to the inside of the bedroom again, all he could hear were Myrtle's muffled moans. It made him feel quite sorrowful...

He noticed Nara come up to the door, her brow furrowed. She gave him a confused glance, to which he answered to quickly.

"There's been a bit of a fight over here. Nothing too bad, just... just let them calm themselves down, okay?"

Nara still appeared to be perplexed, but gave him a nod, anyway. She sat down there with him, probably expecting some form of an explanation.

"Ashlyn and Myrtle. They got into a fight about... something." Of course, he didn't want to tell anyone the truth about their past. That would only cause more problems for the ice dragoness. "A lot of shouting... That's about all I heard, Nara."

Nara looked very dubious, but she seemed to let it slide for now. She got to her feet, starting to move towards the exit when she looked back at him. She motioned with her head, as if telling him to follow her.

"What is it?" He rose from the floor. "Do you need help with something?"

She nodded, a smile evident on her muzzle. Roland moved towards her, wondering what she might have in store for him...

* * *

The task he'd been set by Nara involved replacing the shortage of spirit gems, as he'd seen earlier. It sounded about as tedious as it was. So, in that boredom, he'd failed to get the fight off his mind. He'd spent most of the time he was away pondering about the things he could say to Myrtle.

He wanted to help Ashlyn with her problems... No, he _needed_ to. He'd felt a constant desire to do so ever since he'd witnessed that argument break out. After that, he could go and see to her...

Roland set the last crystal down gingerly and wiped perspiration from his forehead. Spirit gems were surprisingly light for a gemstone, but carrying one as large as himself was strenuous. Whatever the difficulty, he hoped he'd been of enough assistance to Nara. When he looked back at her, she gave him a reassuring nod and waved him off. He smiled before moving out of the basement.

Now, he had a different task at hand. He was going to speak to Myrtle, whatever the risk in doing so may be. She might hurt him, or maybe even reject his attempt at talking to her, but he was bent on succeeding. It would all be worth it in the end...

He would do it for Ashlyn. She deserved happiness, and he knew he would be successful in helping her.

He was going to make sure of it.

Roland made his way to Myrtle's door. He took a deep lungful of air, closed his eyes and tapped on its wooden surface three times. At first, he was expecting to hear nothing, starting to worry, but he received a shaky answer from the other side.

"Who is it?"

Roland was relieved. "It's me..."

"I don't know who 'me' is," Myrtle replied. Roland felt heat rise to his cheeks at his own stupidity.

"Um... The red dragon." He ran a paw through his frills. "I want to talk."

Myrtle went silent for a little while, likely considering his request. He leaned up against the door, patiently awaiting her response.

"Yeah, come in," she said suddenly. "I've got things I might need to tell you, as well."

Roland was kind of surprised by this turn of events. He tried to think about what she may want to tell him, but his thoughts turned up blank. Slowly, he turned the handle on the door and entered the bedroom.

It was quite small. There was a nice little bed, a wardrobe and a few drawers and a tiny supply of spirit gems. His attention wasn't really on the room, though. Myrtle quickly greeted him from the bed with a quick wave of her paw, a slight smirk on her muzzle.

"Hello," she said strangely cheerfully. She sounded like she'd composed herself after her yelling, but her appearance said otherwise. Her eyes were still red from tears, and she slumped against her bedhead in sadness.

"Hey," he replied, returning the smile. "I came in to check on you."

Myrtle rolled her eyes. "I doubt that's the only reason you're here, but okay. I'm fine."

He realised his plan was see-through. In fact, she'd probably been thinking of answers to anything he could possibly say.

"You're quite right," he said, not wanting to waste time. "I'm here to talk about Ashlyn."

She lost the smile immediately. "Did she put you up to this?"

Roland was now happy that he'd acted on his own initiative. "No, actually. I came here by myself."

"Oh." Myrtle seemed astonished. "What did you want to say about her?"

He thought about the possible things he could say to start the conversation before answering. "I don't think... How do I phrase this? None of this is her fault. I mean... your sister."

"And what makes you say that?" she responded, anger already rising in her tone.

"Well..." Roland started to explain Ashlyn's past. "There was a dragon. I think his name was Aurus... He forced her into doing those murders-"

"Hold on," she intervened. "You're saying it wasn't her fault?"

He shrugged. "Yeah, basically."

Myrtle frowned at his answer. "But... She did it. I-I saw her..."

He exhaled noisily. "Ashlyn had to kill all those people. Aurus threatened her with death..."

Myrtle's eyes were downcast, as if she was trying to comprehend what he'd told her. It was probably going to be difficult to change her thoughts after spending such a long time believing them. And at first, he thought he might've won her over... She lifted her gaze a second later.

"Well, maybe she should've just killed herself," she said coldly. Roland was disgusted by what she'd told him, and almost opened his mouth to harshly criticise her words. He chose not to, however. Instead, he asked her a question.

"Think about it for a second, Myrtle. Would you not do the same thing as her if you were put into her position? Would you actually be able to do that to yourself?"

Myrtle stared blankly at him for a few moments, sluggishly shaking her head back and forth. Of course, Roland felt the same way as her. In fact, he certainly wouldn't have been nearly as tolerant as she was with the terrible abuse she'd received from Aurus.

"And Ashlyn did... Well, she almost tried that," he uttered. "I stopped her. She doesn't deserve that at all."

Myrtle must've been feeling culpable because she lowered her gaze once again. "What makes you think she isn't lying about her past?"

"I've known her for a little while now and she's definitely not that kind of dragoness. She would have to be an amazing actor for that to be the case... She's horrible at lying, anyway."

Myrtle sighed. "She still... Couldn't she have run away from him?"

Roland had an answer to that, as well. "She said she was afraid of him finding her again... Aurus would've been able to find her in Avalar. I'm pretty sure he knew his way around."

She took a long look around her room before speaking up again. "So I'm just supposed to forgive her for what she... what _he_ did?"

Roland inclined his head, unsure of how to properly answer that with words. He saw a little moisture in her eyes again, but she swiftly wiped them off with a paw; he could tell she refused to let her emotions run rampant again.

"If you get to know her, she's a great dragon at heart. Trust me, Myrtle." Roland beamed and actually managed to get a little smile out of her, as well.

"Well... Maybe I should say sorry for earlier." Myrtle looked like she almost didn't want to believe what she was saying. Roland was amazed by how fast he'd managed to get her to change her mind. She was very easily persuaded...

"Hey, what were those things you wanted to say earlier?" he asked. Myrtle quickly shook her head, putting up a paw.

"It doesn't matter now."

He straightened himself, unable to hold back the smile on his muzzle. He heard Myrtle snigger at his grin.

"Yeah... Thanks for listening to me, anyway." Roland shrugged, turning around. "I'll leave you alone now."

"No, thank you for telling me what really happened." She grinned as he turned his head. "I've got things to do later."

Roland's grin only widened as he withdrew from the room. When he shut the mahogany door behind him, he nearly shouted out in pure glee. He was incredibly happy with how things had played out in there. He thought he was probably the luckiest dragon alive.

Roland spent the rest of the day trying to calm himself after such a great turn of events with a few stories on Nara's bookshelf, in exchange for helping her around the smithy.

Eventually, though, the day was gone and night had cast its dark cloak over a snowy Tall Plains once more. He'd completely lost track of the time whilst poring over novels and tomes. He found himself getting into bed and hastily dozing off once more, but not before noticing Ashlyn crawl into her own. He would've asked her how she was feeling then and there, but she seemed to just instantly fall asleep as soon as she got in.

Roland's slumbering wasn't to last, though.

In fact, his sleep was interrupted by Myrtle, who seemed to be trying to grab Ashlyn's attention. He was a little freaked out that she was trying to speak to her before the sun had even risen, but he tried to pay it no mind. Soon, though, he realised what the dragoness was trying to do.

"Hey, Ash," she whispered, sounding rather cheerful. "I need to talk to you."

"Hmm?" Ashlyn mumbled in response, yawning. "Roland?"

"No, not him..." He heard a tiny laugh slip out Myrtle's maw. "It's me, Myrtle."

Ashlyn's bed sheets ruffled around; he guessed it was her getting up in shock. "W-What?"

"Yeah, it's me! How surprising?" Myrtle was unusually joyful right now. He had taken note of her constantly swinging mood, though. One minute she was happy, the next she might be depressed or mad. It was odd, but he didn't question it for very long; he was much too interested in what the green dragon was saying to Ashlyn.

"B-But... What?"

"I, um..." Her tone went lower, despite her whispering already. "I wanted to say sorry for what I said earlier... And for judging you the way I did."

Roland was genuinely surprised by her willingness to express her regrets so soon after their conversation. It was such a huge change. Again, Roland thought it was peculiar behaviour. After watching her sister meet her end in front of her, killed by the dragoness she was talking to, it was strange to think that she'd already forgiven her for absolutely everything she'd done...

Wait, no. He'd done. Roland couldn't forget about Aurus. He cursed himself internally for once again thinking it was her fault... What was wrong with him sometimes? How could he be so darned stupid? Roland almost sighed, but reminded himself of the two dragonesses speaking to each other and shut his muzzle.

"So, yeah," Myrtle continued, her tone rising a little, "I'm sorry, Ashlyn. I hope we can get along better in the future."

And with that out of the way, Roland heard Myrtle pace away from Ashlyn. Roland guessed her jaw had been dropped by the unforeseen change in Myrtle's standing with her for she seemed to be lacking the ability to speak right now.

"Um, Ashlyn?" he whispered, breaking his silence. "Are you okay?"

Ashlyn did not reply to his compassionate question but instead asked her own. "Roland? Can I... Can we talk for a second? Upstairs?"

Roland was curious as to why she would want to speak to him this late at night, but he couldn't see any problems in doing so. "Sure... I'll grab a candle..."

"No, don't worry about it." He heard Ashlyn land on the wooden floor. "I... W-We won't be very long."

"Um, okay," he responded. He wanted to know why she needed to talk to him at midnight. Still, after he pulled the sheets off of his body, he followed her through the arched door in the darkness. He felt almost blind in the blackness of the forge, but managed to make it through the next door and finally to the staircase.

He saw Ashlyn look back at him, as if to check he was behind her, before padding up them. They slowly reached the top. The light of the celestial moons filled the space, albeit dimly. As always, it was quite the sight to behold outside.

"What is it, Ash?" he questioned her, moving over to the window to get a better look. The snow had stopped its slow descent towards the ground, so he could see the brilliant array of stars high above him. When she didn't answer him, he turned to face her. "Ashlyn?"

He was almost knocked down by a blur of blue.

Roland was about to push the force back, but he realised what it was only moments later. Ashlyn had wrapped her forelegs around his neck in a crushing hug. He was shocked by the gesture, of course. He quickly relied on his instincts and leaned his head into hers

Something wet rolled down his cheek... He realised it'd come from Ashlyn.

"Ashlyn..." he said softly. "Are you okay? Y-You're not crying, are you?"

He heard the dragoness sniffle, confirming his suspicion. If it was her tearing up, then something terrible must've happened... Or perhaps it was the complete opposite? He smiled warmly to himself when he found out it was the latter.

"Roland..." Ashlyn spoke up, her voice wavering. "Thank you... so much."

He had an idea of why she was doing this suddenly, so he didn't say a word. Instead, he managed to lift a paw up and drape it over her back. At this, she pressed into him with more force, almost driving him into the floor with her strength.

This embrace from her was starting to feel very different to the wing she'd used to thank him for his advice yesterday. It wasn't just another friendly gesture. It felt more... affectionate this time. More loving... It reminded him of his mother and father and the way he used to cuddle with them.

"I-I don't know how you did it, but thank you..." she said. "Thank you..."

"It's nothing, Ash. I'm glad I could help."

She continued to embrace him, adding onto her gratitude with more words. "You've done more for me in weeks than anybody else has in my entire life... You've always been there for me, always there when I'm down, always trying to make me happy..."

Roland's grin only widened. "I mean, I try my best..."

A sigh slipped out of her maw. "And I don't know why you do all this for me. We hardly know each other, but you treat me like you've known me for all of eternity... Why, Roland? Why do you do so much just to make me feel better?"

Roland didn't have to think about a response to that for very long. "Because I feel the exact same way as you, Ash. You've been a great friend... No, the _greatest_ friend."

Roland was able to get a snicker from the dragoness with that remark, but otherwise she went quiet. A lengthy moment passed by before she finally pulled away from him. He was free of her paws, but if he was being honest, he was kind of disappointed. He'd enjoyed those few moments of happiness.

As he'd suspected previously, Ashlyn had moisture in her eyes, which she speedily rubbed away. And, for a time, her eyes were locked with his. Roland felt something rise in his chest. Something other than cheerfulness or slight disappointment...

He quickly brushed it off and lowered his gaze, massaging the top of his skull with a paw, now feeling a little awkward. "Yeah, um... I guess I should say you're welcome."

Ashlyn was quick to grin. "Thanks, Roland. You're the best."

A while of just looking to the outside sky slowly passed by. He was able to discern the constellations once more, and he was even capable of naming them again. At one stage, he was about to head off to the comfort of his bed, but Ashlyn halted his movements with her voice.

"Hey, uh... Roland?"

"What is it?" He cocked his head leftward.

"Can we stay up here for a while?" she asked. "I... I want to get to know you better. Tell me about yourself..."

"Damn. I should've brought a candle," he joked.

Her statement did put an end to the thought of going anywhere, though. With an inclination of his cranium, he flopped over beside Ashlyn and told her more about himself. He started with his own hatchday, which was, in fact, the very last day of winter, and progressed into other little bits about his own past, like the time he'd stolen an entire bed from a mansion. He still thought it was a fluke.

All throughout the night, he really only felt one thing...

Happy... Happy that Ashlyn was there with him, enjoying the moonlight with him...

Together.


	16. Carry on, Dragon

Carry On, Dragon

Roland glanced longingly back at Ashlyn one more time before treading down the staircase. As much as he would've loved to stay up there with her, he had relatively important things he needed to ask. At least, they would be important if he was trying to find that artefact. He really wanted to get his claws around it... She would be fine for a little while by herself, anyway. If she was able to survive years of being forced into committing crimes, he was pretty sure she could live for a few minutes without him.

As he paced down the tiny hallway, he thought about whom he might voice the question to. His musings swiftly led him to Myrtle's bedroom door. Who better to ask than the leader of the Atlawa tribe herself? She would obviously have some kind of knowledge on the subject.

Roland considered the time at which he was visiting her, and quickly deduced that it was probably around ten by gazing through a small pane of glass on his right. The sun was slowly rising in the sky, starting to near its highest point. He realised he'd slept in again. Of course, that didn't matter to him; he was perfectly fine with doing so in such tranquil conditions.

He lifted a paw and placed three firm knocks on the door's surface. It only took a second for him to get a muffled response from the other side.

"Who is it?" Myrtle asked jovially.

"It's me again," he replied. About as soon as he'd said that, the door swung open.

"Hi! Come in." She ushered him inside. He gladly moved into the centre of the small room.

Roland glanced around the room again. As he'd seen yesterday, there was a bed, a closet and a little supply of red crystals; he didn't think she still needed them. It was pretty bland in comparison with the rest of the rooms. He wasn't here to judge the building he was in, though. There were more beneficial things he could do.

"So what brings you here?" Myrtle questioned Roland, spinning around to face him.

"Well, I just came to ask if you've heard of an artefact here in Tall Plains," he said. "One that supposedly that grants wishes?"

"That thing?" Myrtle responded to Roland's question, a grin playing on her muzzle. "It's not really an _artefact_ , as to say. More of a shrine, really... It's said to grant wishes, but it hasn't worked for anyone yet. I believe it'll work someday, though."

Her answer got him excited, even if it was all superstition and rumours. It was good to know that the thing he was slowly trying to search for actually existed. He may not get the reward he sought after out of it if what Myrtle was saying had any credit, but at least he could say he made it. He couldn't wait for an actual adventure.

"Why do you ask, Roland?" She angled her head to the right slightly. He thought about it for a moment, but there was really only one answer to her question.

"Well, I want to make a wish. I mean, who wouldn't? If there's a possibility it could come true..."

Myrtle's tone told him she was doubtful. "Hm, I don't know..." And then she sounded happy for him. "But if that's what you want to do, there's no stopping you."

Roland was finding it difficult to become accustomed to her constantly varying mood, but he smiled all the same. "Where can I find it, Myrtle?"

"It's a few days south of here," she said. "It's hard to miss; it's huge. Although, if you are planning on going later, I'd suggest walking. There's these hooded people around the area right now..."

He'd heard her speak about them before, back when she was in an argument with Alevor, and now he was curious about her knowledge on them. "I've seen them before... What do you know about them?"

"They're a nuisance, I'll give you that." Myrtle now seemed grumpy. "They attacked our village for no reason not long ago. All 'in the name of Drevon' they said... But to answer your question, I don't know much besides that. Nobody does..."

He sighed after listening to her disappointing answer. She'd mentioned that dreaded name, implying she was aware of it, but he didn't bother questioning her. Her understanding was probably limited compared to even his tiny grasp on the subject.

"So," Myrtle spoke up again, clambering onto her bed and placing a paw below her chin, "if you're going there to make a wish, what are you going to wish for?"

Roland had pondered deeply about the subject before, but he didn't have much in the form of a clear answer. "I really don't know. I was hoping I would think of something along the way."

Myrtle shook her head at his response, not looking satisfied. "You're trying to get to the shrine, but you have no idea what you want? I've never heard that one before, but... whatever. It's your life, I suppose."

Roland rolled his eyes. "What can I say... I'm a weird dragon."

"A _very_ weird dragon..." Myrtle repeated, smirking.

He would've said, 'Not unlike you', but he thought that was pushing it just a bit too far. Roland instead offered her another slight smile.

"Oh well... I've got things to do, things to say to Alevor, before I skedaddle... I have a village to run, and my people are probably wondering why I haven't returned yet." Myrtle climbed down from her comfortable looking position as soon as she'd gotten atop it. "I'm surprised nobody's come around here to look for me... You can follow me out if you want."

Roland bowed his head, making his way over to the doorway with her. "Yeah... I've got to go the same way, anyhow."

The pair moved off towards the forge, which the llama was operating as usual. His project, the strange walking machine thingy, appeared to be almost finished now. Its surface gleamed with a stunning brightness he hadn't seen yesterday, in all likelihood a result of polish, creating a more complete look. It'd come a long way since the original husk of rods and protruding wires it'd once been. Roland was proud of him for what Alevor had accomplished thus far.

Myrtle walked up to Alevor, her expression jolly. "Hi, Levy."

"Myrtle?" He dropped the hammer in his hand, clearly shocked to hear her voice; it hit the floor with a low thud. He swiftly spun around to gaze at her.

"Yeah, it's me, you big dork." Myrtle was being incredibly friendly with him, a bit like the time they'd gone through that small fight. Instead of the ostensible facade she'd used last time, however, she sounded completely authentic. "I just came around to say thank you and sorry for earlier. I said some... cruel things..."

"It's alright," he responded, reaching down to grasp his hammer. "As long as you're okay now."

Myrtle paced up to the llama and proceeded to wrap her wings around his stomach. Alevor was surprised by the hug, of course, but Roland was completely and utterly dumbfounded. This was very, very strange behaviour... Even her arbitrary mood swings were easier to get his head around than this.

But, as muddling as the actions of Myrtle were, he couldn't help but feel cheerful at the bond they shared. However, where this unexpected bond had come from was unknown to him. Perhaps he could ask them to clear up the confusion he was feeling?

"What are you looking at, dragon?" Alevor turned his eyes to Roland. Immediately, the red dragon started to peer at the roof, feeling ashamed of his staring

Myrtle chuckled before letting go of the Atlawa, straightening herself. "You look confused."

"You're right," Roland exclaimed. "I thought you two were at each other's throats... I guess I was wrong."

"You were wrong." Myrtle took a seat where she was standing, right next to Alevor. "We've known each other for years. I was just... angry when you escaped the cell, Roland. And I knew Alevor was the one to break you out, so I guess I... I took my anger out on you, Levy."

Myrtle looked at him with the most sincere apologetic face Roland had ever seen. Alevor exhaled quietly. "I was confused when you just came barging in like that. You said all that... stuff. I didn't know what to think."

"Yeah... I'm sorry. I didn't mean any of that, Alevor." The green dragoness clenched a paw. "It's those other Atlawa. I'm practically forced to act like that around the village. They have to keep up with their _traditions_."

Roland walked up to the two before sitting down opposite them. "If you're not a fan of their customs, Myrtle, then why are you their leader?"

"The entire village would be screwed otherwise," she responded. "Under my leadership skills, we've been the most successful tribe in years. In fact, the village wouldn't exist without me..."

Roland almost laughed at just how full of herself she was. "And how old are you?"

"I'm twelve now... I was ten when I took over."

He could only wonder how such a young dragoness took over an entire tribe of Atlawa. She was so immature and hardly of the right age to uphold a status like that, yet she was somehow capable of doing just that. It was an absolutely absurd thing to think, but a twelve year-old tribal leader was here before him. What kind of impossible turn of events had occurred for her to have garnered that rank? He ended up voicing that very question to her.

"Every year we hold a friendly tournament of sorts," she explained. "It's a test of the mind and spirit, and I just so happened to win it three times in a row. The winner, as you can probably tell, is the tribe's leader for a year."

Roland nodded, eager to hear more of this Atlawan culture. He loved learning about things, as pointless as they might seem right now. He was vastly interested in the lore of his world.

"I was a leader once upon a time," Alevor mentioned. "But I wouldn't be able to try again. I've since been booted out, as you can tell..."

Myrtle stared down at the floor beneath her feet. "I wish they didn't force me to do that. You were a good guy... Stupid tribe. Why we can't advance as a tribe is beyond me."

Roland had to wonder. The way she'd told Alevor that stuff back in their little quarrel had seemed so authentic at the time. Either she was an amazing actress, or she wasn't being truthful right now... But what she was saying to him at this moment was so genuine, as well. He had no idea what to think, but it was probably for the best if he just played along with her.

"Oh well..." Myrtle lifted herself and stretched quickly. "I need to get going... Tell Nara I said bye, Levy."

A rare smile pulled at the llama's face. "Will do. See you around."

"Yeah..." Roland said, still in thought. "See you..."

"Also, Roland," Myrtle said, "you're free to come around to the village if you want. I'll tell everyone I'm not chasing you anymore."

He perked his head up at that. "Well... Okay. Maybe once I get back?"

Myrtle winked. "I'd like that. Buh-bye!"

With all said and done, Myrtle cleared out of the forge. Roland let out a long, drawn out sigh.

"I better get back to work, dragon." Alevor spun around to work his forge once again, striking the piece of white-hot iron with his hammer.

"Yep." Roland started to pace off to his bedroom, but turned his gaze when he was halfway there. "Your project's looking good, Alevor."

Alevor grunted a thanks, not bothering to look at him. Roland gave him a jokingly hurt look, which he didn't see, before moving off to his bedroom. He quickly flopped onto his bed.

He had a lot of thoughts running like a stream through his mind. The biggest question as of now was when he was going to leave the blacksmith behind to pursue his goals. He knew he would have to move out eventually, probably even soon. He couldn't stay cooped up inside here forever.

But when?

He could leave today; he only had to say the word and he had no doubt Alevor would hand him some supplies and send him packing... But was that really what he wanted to do? What would Ashlyn think? He would have to ask her.

Then there were the other concerns he had. Would he even be able to find it? Myrtle had told him it was difficult to miss, but what if he accidentally went the wrong direction? What if he got lost in the jungle? What about those hooded people? According to Myrtle, they were everywhere! He could get captured and be _sold_ , if what those robed figures were like back in that grotto he'd reduced to nothing but ashes so long ago. That just didn't sit well with him...

Was it worth believing the rumours and superstition surrounding this shrine? Was it really worth all the risks and precautions he had to take into account?

But there was a different question amongst all the anti-journey thoughts... After how far he'd gone to make it this far, was it worth turning around and dashing away from the shrine he'd sought after? The wishes he'd journeyed immense distances to make? Seriously, _was_ it?

Roland's thoughts were waging a war inside of his mind, in a huge, heated conflict with each other. He had a decision to make and his head flared slightly because of it. Groaning in irritation, he sat up on his bed and grasped his skull with his forepaws. What was he to do now?

There was somebody in the room he'd failed to notice earlier; Nara was sitting across the bedroom from him. She immediately looked over to him from her bed, frowning, probably confused by the sudden sound he'd created. He stopped holding his head and gave her a lopsided smile to try and alleviate the confusion she was wearing.

"Um, don't mind me," Roland exclaimed, heat rising in his cheeks. "I'm just thinking..."

Nara shook her head, rolling her eyes. She put the tome she was poring over on her bed and paced over to the desk with her writing equipment. Roland's brow rose when she started jotting down a message.

He watched her for a while, considering walking over to see it for himself, but by the time he'd decided to do so, Nara was finished writing. She folded the parchment and threw it through the air to him, which he found exceptionally strange. Somehow, it was soaring through the air; maybe it was made aerodynamic by the way it was folded? It looked like a bird...

In his befuddlement, the parchment hit him fair in the snout. He noticed Nara laughing at his expense, albeit silently. He narrowed his eyes slightly before picking it up from his bed.

Careful not to tear it, he opened the note and took a look at the words written beautifully inside of it.

 _'Answer me this: do you think you can make it?'_

Nara had read his mind. Roland looked up from the page, not too surprised. It was kind of a given when he considered the strange powers she had... Or maybe he was just transparent?

"Well, uh..." Roland wasn't certain when it came to her inquiry. "I don't really know. That's what I _want_ to know."

Nara didn't pass him another glance, speedily writing a second message for him. She folded it in the same way and sent it soaring towards him. Now prepared for the 'paper bird' – he'd dubbed it so – he snatched it out of the air. Again, he unfolded the yellowed parchment and read it carefully.

 _'Do you trust your ice friend?'_

Roland stared at her, wide-eyed. "What kind of question is that? Of course I do. I... I trust her with my life, Nara..."

That seemed to be the response she had foreseen because she smiled and quickly went back to scrawling more words on another thin sheet of paper. And for the third time, she threw it over to him.

 _'Then you can make it. Put your faith in her and you'll be fine. She would do_ anything _for you, Roland_.'

Roland felt perplexed after reading over the note. The way Nara had put emphasis on the word 'anything' was odd. But if that was true... Did Ashlyn think that highly of him? He was just some lowly thief and she would go so far as to do _anything_ for him? He wasn't sure if he could believe her.

"Do you... really think so?" he asked, looking up from the creased paper. All he received in response was a fast nod of Nara's head. He looked back down at the words, scrutinising them a couple more times to make sure what he'd read over was correct.

One more flying sheet bumped into his muzzle while he was distracted. He set the one in his paws down and glanced over the next. Only three words were printed on it.

 _'I know so.'_

That alone put a grin on his face. While it was no confirmation, to hear that about Ashlyn made him feel happy. He gazed at Nara again, who was wearing quite the ecstatic expression.

Well, if the way Nara was putting it was right, maybe he could make it after all?

No, not maybe... He _would_ make it to the shrine. There was no doubt about it. All he needed was a way to find it without getting lost...

"Hey, are you any good at drawing?" Roland asked, a sudden idea popping into his head. Nara shrugged modestly. "Well, would you be able to draw me a map to this shrine?"

And as soon as he'd finished explaining what he wanted, she started sketching what he thought was probably going to be a map. He waited patiently for her to cease drawing. Surprisingly enough, it only took her a few minutes.

The drawing that soared over to him was not just of a map, but also a stunning image of what was certainly the location he was looking for. In such a short span of time, she'd drawn an absolutely beautiful piece of art. A long rope bridge crossed the waters far below and led to a large clearing that held a tower made of stone, all drawn at what seemed like perfection. At least, that was what he thought he was seeing. There was even a little map on the bottom right corner, of course not as detailed as the drawing, but still definitely legible. She'd also written a few words at the bottom.

 _'Just head south. You'll find it.'_

How she'd done this in only a few minutes was astonishing. He was guessing it was some kind of magic, but magic this beautiful and vivid would've taken huge amounts of skill and focus to use. Nara must've been practicing for a long time to build up this level of expertise with her claws.

"This is really something, Nara." He looked up briefly from the page, only to gaze down at it in amazement once more. "Thank you so much!"

An object fell onto the bed beside him, a satchel of sorts. It was of a black leather, had a fairly large, buttoned up pouch for its size, and its edges were trimmed with a vibrant blue. Inside of the leathery pouch was another note.

 _'Seeing as you're already wearing Alevor's scarf, give the bag to your ice friend. Put the drawing inside of it.'_

Roland replaced the handwriting with the drawing and buttoned it back up. He grinned happily.

"Again, thank you." He leaped off of his bed, hanging the satchel from his neck. Nara returned his smile, bowed slightly and headed off to sit back down on her bed. She must've been very interested in the tome she was studying because she was back to eagerly reading over it within the wink of an eye. Roland exhaled happily before moving off to find Ashlyn. By this time, she had to be awake...

He found the twisting staircase and padded up its steps once more. As astonishing as it was, she was still sound asleep. He shook his head in incredulity before moving towards her.

"Gee, get up, sleepyhead." Roland tapped her foreleg, smirking. She groaned a little, apparently not wanting to follow his instructions. "Come on, Ashy. Stop sleeping in."

"Mmm..." Ashlyn rolled over onto her stomach, slowly opening her eyes. "How late is it?"

"I don't know." He gazed out the spherical window. "Maybe around ten thirty?"

"Wow." She got up and stretched her obviously tired muscles. "Have I really been out for that long?"

"Well, we did fall asleep at what, like, four?"

"Mmm, yeah. I guess... Thanks for last night, by the way, Roland."

He beamed. "You're welcome. Also, I've got this for you."

He lifted the pouch off of his neck and passed it to her. She seemed confused, but took it from his paws, anyway.

"What's inside?" she asked, unfastening it. Roland straightened the warm crimson scarf around his neck.

"A map to that artefact thingy. It's more of a _shrine_ apparently," he added with a roll of his eyes.

She unfurled the drawing and looked amazed after examining it. "This is some great stuff... Where did you learn to draw like this?"

"Oh, that's not mine. Thank Nara." He peered briefly at the floor. "I can only draw stick figures, anyway."

"Aww," she teased, placing the parchment back inside the black satchel. "Poor you."

He gave her a hurt look. "It haunts me everyday."

She snickered before shaking her head, feigning sadness. "Oh, I'm _so_ sorry, Roland. I wish I could help you..."

"It... It hurts so much." Roland couldn't force back the grin growing on his muzzle. He was enjoying this back-and-forth between them.

Ashlyn paced up beside him and ran her wing across his back. "It's okay... You're going to be fine, Roland. It's only a drawing."

He was about to crack up laughing at this point. "B-But it's so much more than that. It's amazing! A-And I can't do-"

Ashlyn humbly shushed him, now leaning into him slightly. "It's okay... _Ashy's_ here now."

He couldn't take it anymore. He collapsed, laughing heartily. His joy had an immediate effect on Ashlyn, who wasn't able to help herself either.

"Okay, okay," she wheezed through her chortling. "I'm done... I'm done!"

Their pure glee continued unwavering for the next minute. Eventually, all good things had to come to an end, however.

"Yeah, yeah... I-I'm fine," he stammered after such a fierce fit of laughter. "Oh, Ancestors..."

"Okay... I-I'm-" She barked another laugh, "-I'm okay..."

Soon enough, they'd settled down... for the most part. Roland couldn't help but think back on that event and chuckle quietly to himself.

"So, Roland," Ashlyn said, "seeing as you're _kind of_ the leader and all, when are we going to get moving? We can't stay here forever."

The question caught him off guard, but he quickly managed a response. "Well, I was thinking of heading off today, now that we know where we're going."

His answer seemed to surprise her, yet she nodded, anyway. "Alright. I just... I need to say some things to Myrtle before I go."

"Oh, um..." Roland looked away from her for a moment. "She's already left."

He glanced back. Ashlyn lost the cheerful smile she'd been sporting. It pained him to see her appearance change from one of immense happiness to one of depression. He didn't want to see that joy all but vanish; he didn't want it to be replaced with the despair now slowly creeping onto her face.

"She has a village to run, Ashlyn." Roland put a paw on her shoulder. A tiny grin cracked his features. "How a twelve year-old runs a tribe is beyond me, though..."

The amusement didn't show up on her expression, the feeling he was desperately hoping for. He exhaled heavily, his own smile starting to falter.

"You can speak to her once we get back, okay? We'll come back here before we leave Tall Plains."

She looked up from the floorboards below her. "Yeah, you're right... I'll talk to her later on."

He let go of her, happy with her answer. "Good. Let's get a move on."

Ashlyn inclined her head before lifting herself from the floor. Roland took one more look through the dome. It might be the last time he would get a chance to do so for a while.

Soon enough, however, he found himself wandering down the stairwell. He would see the sky again, obviously. Peering at it through a window wasn't going to make much difference...

They both made their way to Alevor to say goodbye. He didn't seem too shocked. In fact, he looked almost... glad? Roland laughed internally at that thought.

"Well, I guess that's that." Alevor set the metal he had suspended in the air with a pair of tongs into the cool barrel of water next to him. "Will you be back later?"

"Yep," Roland responded. "When we get back, there's a few things we'll need to do before we leave for the main continent again."

Alevor sighed. "Nara won't object, so you're free to stay."

"Thanks for letting us stay with you anyway, Alevor." Ashlyn held out a paw for him. The llama gladly took it.

"You'll be fine when it comes to getting food out there," he exclaimed. "There's plenty of wild berries and game out there for you dragons."

"I figured." Ashlyn let go of his gloved palm. "We'll make do without supplies, I think."

"Say bye to Nara for me," Roland told the blacksmith. He nodded once.

"Will do. Safe travels, you two."

The two turned to walk out the doorway. It was about time he got moving towards his destination.

As cliché as it most certainly was, he knew his adventure was only truly beginning now. And he was quite worried. There were so many things that could turn south over the course of this trip. So many risks to consider...

But he knew he would be fine. If Nara's words held any merit, with Ashlyn he was _going_ to be fine.

 _'Put your faith in her...'_


	17. Snow Stained Scarlet

Snow Stained Scarlet

On paper, trudging through the jungles of Tall Plains would've sounded exciting for Roland. He had the chance to gaze upon all of the flora and fauna around him, he had a partner in the form of Ashlyn, and he was finally out pursuing the goals he desired to reach.

But in reality, he was beyond bored. A great majority of the plant life had been smothered by the snow, and the animals were nowhere to be seen, probably off hibernating in holes and caverns now that winter had cast its icy veil across Tall Plains. Ashlyn wasn't very talkative today, either, and he couldn't think of a conversation starter. He was also unsure if his goals were even obtainable – wishes were pretty far off – but he was, of course, still bent on getting to that shrine.

And to make matters worse, it was bloody cold! Even with the scarf tied snugly around his scaly neck, he found himself shivering slightly with every step he took further into the snowy mass of mahogany trees ahead of him. Worse still, was the way Ashlyn was capable of ignoring it completely, and she seemed a little smug whilst doing so. Roland almost shot a glare at her, but managed to stop himself from doing so.

"I wish we could fly," Ashlyn said after a while. "All these damn... _people_."

Roland looked briefly at her. "Well, I'm not sure I feel like being shot down by a cannon. After how many we've seen already, it would be bound to happen at some point..."

His statement did ring true. They'd only journeyed a couple of hours without resting and they'd seen a few of what Ashlyn identified as 'machine guns' dotted sparsely around the landscape. They would apparently spread dense waves of bullets over vast distances and through some kind of magical reserve, didn't have to reload whatsoever. He asked her how she'd known that and she told him she'd had an experience with one... He could only begin to imagine what that was like for her.

It was strange, however, that every cannon he'd noticed so far was unmanned, and thus obviously incapable of injuring him. Maybe the robed ones using them had moved off to different areas in Tall Plains... Why were they here in the first place, though? It wasn't like lord basket case was here to lead them to what was most likely glory to them. He sighed, exasperated, ducking under a fat, white leaf he was about to bump into.

"What are you thinking about?" Ashlyn moved a couple of steps closer to him, her expression showing her concern. He smiled weakly.

"Oh, nothing really." He was able to discern another unmounted weapon through the chilly undergrowth. "Just about how all these cannons aren't being used. Why are there so many? It's strange."

"I have no idea," she stated, turning her head to see where he was looking. "It _is_ weird."

Their pacing through the endless tangle of branches and plant life ahead continued silently for the next minute. He had to admit that, whilst travelling with somebody was better than doing it alone, it was like he was on his lonesome, anyway. Ashlyn definitely wasn't a talker on long treks like this one. Of course, it was a different story when they were both inside of a building or sitting down, casually enjoying each other's company. Maybe she wanted to keep her feelings away from everyone else, to keep them contained until she knew nobody else but him would be listening to her. And honestly, that made Roland happier; he knew he was considered a good friend in her eyes.

Roland passed Ashlyn a quick glance and she looked as if she was deep within her thoughts. He tapped her gently in the side with his wing.

"What's on _your_ mind?" Roland asked. Ashlyn didn't stop staring forward.

"Myrtle," she uttered quietly, not sadly, but as if she was trying to make sure nobody would hear her, kind of confirming his notion about her hardly opening up around anyone besides him. He immediately knew what she was getting at, though. It had to have been difficult receiving such a sudden apology from the one who'd once mistook her for their worst enemy and then not being able to talk to them later about it.

"Yep, she's a weird one alright." Roland tried to lighten her mood a little, which he happened to be successful in doing. A little smile quickly pulled at her mouth.

"I guess that's kind of true." Ashlyn stopped in her tracks and looked at him. "Hey, why don't we sit for a while? Take a rest..."

He couldn't agree more with that. His legs were killing him. Without saying a word, he flopped onto the ground under him, burying his head in the snow. He didn't care if it was cold. He could fall asleep laying there like that.

"Um... What are you doing?" Ashlyn asked him, sounding genuinely befuddled. "Isn't that cold?"

Albeit reluctantly, he lifted his head from the ground and turned his gaze to her. The fluffy white substance stuck to his face scales like flour.

"Trying to sleep," he said quickly before slamming his skull into the soft floor once more. Ashlyn sniggered at his silly antics.

"Oh, get up..." Roland heard her paws shifting in the snow. Soon, he felt two paws grab onto his back and roll him over.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, surprised. Ashlyn was staring down at him, looking as if she was trying to suppress another smile. That made him chuckle.

"Ancestors, you're irritating." Her tone clearly told him her remark was of a joking manner. "Has anyone ever told you that?"

"Yeah, probably." Roland stuck his tongue out at her. At that, Ashlyn giggled and punched him playfully in the shoulder. He pouted. "What was that for?"

"For being the most annoying dragon ever." She smirked. Roland shook his head. He had to get back at her for this.

Ashlyn moved away from him and brushed her blue scales off. Seeing her clean herself actually gave Roland a fantastic idea. When she had her back turned on him, he bent down and built up a ball of snow in his paws, which he proceeded to lob in her direction. Ashlyn was struck on the skull, covering her in snow once more.

She turned quickly, glaring at him. Amusement did happen to flash across her expression, however. He turned his gaze to the trees high above him, pretending he hadn't done anything to the poor dragoness.

"Why you..." Ashlyn cut herself off. He stood there for a few moments, admiring the trees, before glancing briefly at her. He almost cried out when a ball of white smacked his forehead. He narrowed his eyes. She chuckled at him.

"Oh, that's it," he declared deviously, gathering the floor in his paws. "You'll regret that."

He noticed Ashlyn following his example with the snow. A chilly war was about to ensue, and he was determined to win. She stared at him, that same intent on victory clear on her face.

After a mental count of three, he dashed to the side and hurled his icy snowball directly towards her. She obviously saw it coming, for she dived out of the way and proceeded to copy his actions. All the while, his grin was unfaltering. That boredom he'd been feeling previously had all but vanished, now replaced by pure contentment.

A ball struck his side; he scolded himself internally for not focusing properly. Roland was able to get much closer to her shortly after that. He used the opportunity to flick a heap of the white ground into her face, which she shouted at him for. He chortled manically which only further added to her annoyance. He was surprised she wasn't using her ice powers against him... Maybe she wanted an _actual_ challenge?

"Get back here!" Despite her cries, he could tell she was enjoying this tiny battle of theirs. It made him feel great knowing she was entertained by the slight diversion.

As he was chased around by the ice dragoness, his thoughts were suddenly brought back to a few days ago, when they were inside of that cell, the times he'd seen her at her worst. The time she'd almost... He was disgusted they were coming back to him now. He tried and tried, but he couldn't get the subject off of his mind. He kept on smiling for Ashlyn, but he felt horrible. He continued to peg snowballs at her, trying to keep that terrible feeling hidden from her.

Ashlyn had always looked so depressed. It'd gotten better over the course of their adventures together, but the way she walked around dejectedly all the time was... terrible, to say the least. He'd easily noticed that earlier. And, really, it didn't seem at all possible for her mopey, melancholic mood to ever change...

But that was the thing. She had went through a change. A huge one. She definitely wasn't gloomy anymore, certainly happier than she'd ever been around him. They'd shared smiles, laughs, even hugs together. The way she was chasing him about was clearly making her feel so much better, as well. Those thoughts made him all the more cheery as a result.

It was very strange, but he thought he could use a passionfruit, of every _thing_ the Ancestors had created, to describe her. She had a rough, almost depressing exterior, but once you made it past that, she was an amazing dragoness on the inside. And, well, he felt overjoyed knowing he'd made it to that inside. He'd brought out the cheerfulness once locked away deep within her and he'd helped her crush those terrible emotions she'd once always been going through. He was proud knowing that he was the cause of her huge change.

He was proud to have accomplished that as her friend.

But right now, he had bigger fish to fry. Ashlyn was on his tail, figuratively and almost literally. He had no doubt that she would catch him whilst they sprinted around the jungle. He did try to dodge her, but it was to no avail. In the end, he gave himself up, choosing to slow his hurried sprint.

"Alright, alrigh- Gah!" he yelled out when something knocked him over. Ashlyn had pounced on him and sent them both rolling across the ground. They did quickly come to a stop, however, and she used the advantage she had on him to hold him against the frigid floor with her paw. He was in for it now, wasn't he?

"You are a jerk," Ashlyn huffed, trying to keep a straight face. He could tell she was struggling.

"I can be." He looked beside him and, once again, had a brilliant idea. He scooped up some snow in a forepaw, attempting to distract her with his words. "I thought you were tired, Ash."

"I was," she answered. "But not anymore..."

"Well, maybe _I_ wanted to rest." He rolled his eyes.

"What does it matter now? I only care about getting back at you. In fact, where was I..."

Ashlyn stretched her paws slightly, probably preparing to do whatever it is she wanted to do to him. He almost wanted to see what she had in mind, but he chose to go ahead with his fantastic scheme instead. Oh, how he was going to tip the scales so hard...

"Hey, um, Ash... Before you hurt me, can I tell you something?"

Ashlyn nodded, a sly grin tugging at her the corners of her mouth. "What is it, Roly?"

He clenched his paw around the snow. "Yeah, uh... Think fast!"

"Wha-" She was cut short when he quickly threw the ball clasped in his paw. The position he was in made tossing it tough, but surprisingly, it hit the target he was aiming for: her scaly cheek. What made his impossible plan more astonishing was his next move.

He took action by wrapping his paws around her. And then, as idiotic as it may have seemed to do, he actually managed to flip her onto her back. He almost yelled out in victory then and there, but instead took to holding her down. He'd somehow reversed their positions, and he was proud of finally being triumphant over her.

"Oh, how the tables have turned." He laughed at his horrendous pun. Ashlyn gave him the 'are you being serious' look.

"You know I could easily get you off, right?"

Roland feigned astonishment. "Wow, really? But nobody's ever beaten the mighty Roland in combat!"

"We both know that isn't true," Ashlyn stated, shaking her head in disbelief. "In fact, I specifically remember an axe downing you..."

He froze up immediately. That was not a subject he wanted to chat about. He'd completely forgotten about it, but he now remembered the terrible agony that battle axe had created in his spinal cord as if it was yesterday. It was a miracle he was still on his feet today after such a torturous blow...

"Y-Yeah, um..." Roland stopped beaming and his grip on her loosened. "Yeah... That happened."

"O-Oh... By the Ancestors, Roland..." She fumbled for words, instantly realising her error. "I'm sorry... I-I shouldn't have said-"

"No, no, it's fine," he said reassuringly, gently climbing off of her. "Just... It's okay."

She lifted herself from the icy floor and stared downward. A deep sigh escaped Roland's maw.

"Don't blame yourself, Ash. It... It was only an axe." He rolled his eyes. Ashlyn didn't respond to his attempt to make light of the memory, but she did raise her gaze slightly to glance at him. The look she gave him screamed guilt. Despite knowing it was her mistake, he felt horrible for reacting like that... He kept telling himself he'd ruined that joyous moment.

"We should probably get going," Ashlyn said, looking downhearted, but she gave him a soft smile a few moments later. "Those wishes are waiting for us."

He returned it. "Yeah. Let's."

* * *

Their trek continued through Tall Plains and in spite of Roland's prior thoughts, they'd actually been having quite an interesting conversation about reading. He loved how passionate she was about books, especially about stories. She seemed to have taken a liking to romance – he'd always thought those kinds of novels to be a little too sappy; he enjoyed an adventure a little more. But to see her conversing about something she enjoyed made him happy.

As they had started to travel further and further south, the gentle snowflakes falling from the sky had slowly been changing. They'd started to descend more forcefully and much, much more rapidly, pushing their way through the dense canopy above without difficulty. It was impossible to even see the trees next to him at moments. Worse still, was the climate; terrible chills constantly crawled up his spine. It wasn't enough to freeze him completely, but if he could make a wish right now, it would be for the toasty warmth of a campfire.

Since then, the talking between him and Ashlyn had come to a halt in favour of shoving through the quickly thickening sheet of snow ahead of them. He hoped there was a cavern of some sorts around this frosty jungle. If not, he would have to somehow make do with the glacial conditions he was in... He still couldn't believe the area he was exploring was Tall Plains, the tropical jungles and grassland of the south. Perhaps it had to do with its relative position to the White Isle?

He wondered how Ashlyn was feeling as of now; most likely irritated, but not like she was going to turn into an icicle on the spot. Of course, her natural resistance to the cold was in effect here. An ice dragon's defence against harsh snowstorms wasn't exactly perfect, but it would've been incredibly handy in a situation like this. Again, Roland wanted his own element. He was jealous of her for that reason alone.

Roland decided to take a quick glance to check on her. He expected her to be there, so when he'd done exactly that, he turned his attention to the savage whiteout. But he soon realised she wasn't there next to him. He stopped, quite shocked, but realised she was probably just invisible to his eyes. He still called her name, however.

"Hey, Ash?" He anticipated her responding. In fact, he waited a minute for just that... But he got no such reply. He tried again and had no luck whatsoever.

He was starting to panic. She would've answered him by now. They'd only been talking minutes ago, and now she was _gone_? What had happened? Had she left him behind?

No, she would never do that... Unless she had and hadn't realised it. That was a chance he wasn't willing to believe, however.

He hurriedly twisted and turned on the position he was standing on, his eyes going wide. This wasn't happening, was it? He was just deaf in the winds this storm was creating. Yeah, that had to be it... Maybe she was playing a prank on him? A very sick prank, but a prank nonetheless...

"A-Ashlyn?" he called out again. "Where are you? Ashlyn! By the Ancestors, I swear if this is a joke... Hurry up and come out!"

Once more, no answer. She was only pulling his strings, wasn't she? Roland had to chuckle quietly to himself. He was awed by her ability to create such a believable joke. Nobody had been able to pull something of this magnitude on him before.

"You think you're really funny, don't you? Seriously, Ash... You're actually going to start scaring me in a second."

Truth be told, he was scared. Scared that this wasn't her way of fooling him. This wasn't feeling like what she would use as a way to muck around with him. She wasn't _that_ horrible when it came to duping him. Actually, had she ever tried to deceive him like this? He wasn't able to remember...

"C-Come on, Ash..." His voice grew quiet. He shrunk down in fear. "I-I'm sorry about that snowball, if that's what this is for. I can make it up to you. Just... Just come out. Please..."

No matter where he peered in the blinding snowstorm, he couldn't find her anywhere at all. She'd just... vanished. Poof. Gone... He moved forward, slowly at first, but gradually picked up his speed. He wasn't going to find her by sitting around.

"Where are you? Ashlyn! Ash-" He was interrupted when he smashed into a tree in his desperate search. He clasped a paw over his snout, noticing crimson now freshly dripping from the injury. That was the least of his concerns, however, and he continued scurrying along, hoping to spot her somewhere.

That moment never came.

Roland tripped over his own footing and crashed into the snowy floor. He, again, didn't care. There were much worse things to worry about. He got up and continued like it hadn't even happened.

He tasted his own warm blood, gushing madly from his left nostril into his maw. The feeling made him want to throw up, but he continued on, trying to stay unfazed, as difficult as that was.

That was when he saw something through the unabated blizzard... There was light.

 _Fire_.

Ashlyn was there! He almost jumped up in joy, dashing as speedily as his legs would carry him. It had to be her! There wasn't anybody else out in this brutal blizzard. She'd set up a campfire, in the hopes he would return to her. He could almost hear her panicked voice calling out to him, eagerly awaiting him.

Almost...

When he spotted the barrel of a turret directed at him, he immediately ground to a standstill. There was a small fire, sure, but this weapon glued his paws to the floor. What was even more frightening was the thing controlling it: a figure clad in green. In fact, he found he was in a tiny encampment of robed people. The one in the turret looked astonished for a second, but quickly resorted to spinning a handle on the cannon. There came a low whirring...

Roland immediately ran for the faded outline of a tree in his vicinity, realising what was happening. And as soon as he'd almost made it, a terrifying, constantly resounding explosion came from behind him. Sharp agony immediately rocketed through his body.

Roland screamed out, but not before scampering behind the cover. He slumped against the wide tree, groaning at the pain now coursing through his form. He put a paw to his stomach, the origin of the flaring agony.

He quickly came to the realisation that he'd just been shot. The horrifying pain was much too difficult to endure. He felt blood rise in his throat, and it instantly rushed out in a heavy splutter. The crimson once coursing through his veins saturated his claws and stained the snow a deep red.

It had all happened so quickly. One moment he was on the verge of locating Ashlyn, the next he was on the ground in a bloody, broken mess. Everything had been for nothing. All this exploring, the friends he'd made... All disappearing because of a single bullet to the stomach.

He couldn't even say goodbye to that ice dragoness...

No, he was not going to die like this! He would never let this become his deathbed... He refused to pass away to just one gunshot.

But the more he tried to keep himself from drifting off, the worse the pain became. He needed a way to halt the blood flow. Something dense, something... warm.

The scarf...

He used his other forepaw to rip the fabric off of his neck. And, struggling to move, he put it up against the wound. It was the best he could do. Unfortunately, it wasn't going to buy him much time, for the red was already slipping through the now blood-stained scarf.

There was nothing he could do. Nothing to stop him from dying. This was going to be his end... No matter how much he hoped, how much he prayed to the Ancestors. All he could wish for was that the figure obviously approaching him would present him with a faster, less painful death.

He wished he could see Ashlyn's face one more time...

A gurgled cry sounded from behind him, instantly jolting him awake. He tried to move his head to see what it was, but he was just too weak to move any of the muscles in his body. Fortunately for him, he didn't have to.

The face he saw was blurred... Disfigured. He wasn't able to tell who it was from appearance alone, but he could hear someone shouting his name. He smiled weakly at that, remembering the voice.

"Roland!" Ashlyn's frightened tone came forth. "Stay with me! Do _not_ die on me!"

He mustered up the power to say a few words to her, however weak they were. "H-Hey, Ash... G-Good to see you..."

Her face finally came into full focus. Her jaw had dropped at the sight of him and her eyes were glistening with tears... She really did care about him, didn't she? A smile pulled at his mouth...

He wondered if that would be his last.

"J-Just stay there!" she cried. "Do not move! I'll be back soon... Don't die, Roland. Please..."

With that, she sprinted away from him. Roland wanted to be with her for his final moments, but she was not willing to let him just leave reality. Maybe he could have a little hope too?

And that's what he ended up doing. He clung to that hope like it was the only thing he had left to lose. Ashlyn would come back for him. He hoped she would...

But would she make it in time?

That question made his fears come true. In this frigid whiteout, she wouldn't be able to find the spirit gems to heal his fatal wound. It was too late.

There was one last thing he could do, however. One last word he could utter. Roland opened his bloodied maw to speak, trying to get that one word to slip out. He choked and spluttered in his attempts, but he managed it in the end.

"Goodbye."

He could rest easy. He took one final breath, tasted the sweet, sweet air one more time, before falling into his deepest slumber.

He was sure it would be his last...


	18. Have Faith

Have Faith

Roland woke with a start, gasping for precious air. The first thing he noticed was the agony flaring across his entire body. He felt like he'd just swallowed a gallon of acid; his insides were burning up. Every ligament ached, as if his body was one massive, dreadfully painful cramp. He doubled over and curled up into a ball, clenching his eyes shut.

Where had this pain come from? What had he done to deserve this? He wished he would just die, wished the Ancestors would end his suffering. He would've been so much better off in death than in life...

Wait... _Life_? That word felt so far off for reasons unknown to him... What could that possibly entail? Was he... No, it couldn't be. It wasn't possible at all.

He willed his mind to remind himself of everything prior to when he was supposed to have met his demise, the pains vanishing for a few brief moments while he tried to recollect his memories... Exploring the strange tundra-jungle of Tall Plains, losing Ashlyn in a blizzard and having his life essence drained by a bullet to the stomach. She'd sprinted off to find spirit gems and he'd said one final goodbye to her... But he wasn't dead. How was that possible? He'd met his end there!

The dreadful aches across his figure throbbed painfully once more. He was cold and drenched, as well. But he wasn't bleeding. He'd realised that already. He'd put a paw to his stomach to check for injuries, but there weren't any. Maybe he'd lost every last drop of his essence.

He figured that was idiotic, however. If he had nothing coursing through his veins, how would he be living, breathing, right now? The excruciating torture erupting across his body was a ghastly reminder he hadn't been squeezed dry of his lifeblood yet. Or at least, he hadn't been deprived of all of it; something still resided within him, but he wasn't certain on how much, or how little, he had left.

His awakening agony wasn't settling down. In fact, Roland felt it was getting worse the longer he lived. He wanted it to stop... He _needed_ it to stop! He couldn't go on like this. He simply couldn't...

Roland broke down into sobs, tears gushing out of his eyes. It hurt so much... Was it even worth living anymore? If this pain wasn't going to come to a standstill, then what was the point? Honestly, he didn't know. He'd already made his decision.

He started trying to reach for his tail, wherever that was. He needed that blade right now. His reasons were entirely justified... Ending himself was the best option.

However, no matter how much Roland made an effort to do so, he couldn't quite wrap his claws around it. Were the Ancestors trying to fool him now? Why were they punishing him so harshly? What had he even done? Why couldn't they just let him _die_!?

He opened his eyes to gaze at his surroundings, but whatever he could see was hazy. He tried to look down at his forepaws and all he saw was a jumbled mess of greys and reds. He continued to search for his tail, despite how fruitless his attempts were.

Then he had a huge epiphany. His claws would do just fine. They were clearly sharp enough. He almost grinned. The Ancestors were stupid in thinking he couldn't kill himself. He only needed to put one nail up against his neck and...

"Roland... Stop moving. Please..."

Roland was shocked to hear a voice. He couldn't quite tell who it belonged to, but out here in these parts, there could only be one.

He listened to the voice, his cries coming to an immediate halt. Trying to relax with pain rushing through his body was arduous work, but for her, he would do it. Just listening to her soft tone was enough to calm him down.

And suddenly, the agony started to subside; it was reduced to no more than a strange numbness in his torso. Soon, he found he had the ability to see again, and what he found wasn't surprising. A dragoness... Sea blue scales, a set of straight, ivory horns and a pair of radiant, scarlet eyes staring at him, leaking moisture. For a second, he could only gawk.

"H-Hey, Ash," he croaked. "It's good to see you..."

She sniffled in response. "Y-You said that before you... B-Before you almost..."

"I'm alright now," he said, his voice hoarse, cutting her off. He slowly raised a paw and wiped the wetness from his eyes. "A-All thanks to you, of course... H-How many times have you saved my life now?"

Ashlyn giggled softly, rubbing at her own teary eyes. "Y-You know how to make light of every situation, don't you?"

He looked at the floor below him. "I... I mean, I try..."

"Oh, stop being so d-damn modest!" she shouted shakily through her laughter. "It's okay to have an ego sometimes."

"But that would make me less... perfect." His weak grin went from jovial to mischievous in a matter of seconds. Instead of responding to his joke, however, she pulled him into a tight hug with her paws.

Without thinking, he returned it, not feeling at all flustered by her actions. He realised how much he loved her embrace. It had always been the one thing he'd missed since leaving his home. He'd found that missing comfort in her... He was thankful for that. He knew he could rely on her.

"Even when you're at your worst," her voice came forth, soft and trembling, "you know how to crack me up. I don't know how you do it."

"I have my ways..."

"Never change, Roland..."

Roland had only now registered what he'd almost done. He... He'd tried to take his own life! What, was he insane? Other than being downright idiotic, he was such a hypocrite after telling Ashlyn not to! What would she think of him if he'd done that? He was now incredibly angry with himself. He was a fool. All because of a little pain he was almost incapable of withstanding.

Roland let out a deep sigh. He couldn't believe it. That was so selfish on his part. And he would've left her in tears... He would've left her _alone_. Roland would never be able to forgive himself for that. What would she do without him? Would she go back? Would she... Would she join him?

He decided he didn't want to ponder that topic at all. For now, he attempted to calm himself, not wanting to scare her with his anger. Ashlyn was one strong dragoness, but in her current state, one horrible move and he could probably break her mentally.

Soon, though, he needed her to let go. He could barely breathe with how tightly she was holding him. Of course, had he not been shot, he would've loved to stay there for a couple more moments.

"Y-You can stop now." He chuckled quietly, trying to sound joyful. "Just a little tight, Ash..."

She pulled away and grinned sheepishly. "Yeah... Sorry."

He'd succeeded on that front. She certainly seemed much better than before. He tried to find other things to do while she recovered a bit. Those slight shivers weren't because she was cold... He hoped just his presence would help her.

He soon took to peering around the area they were in now. Rather than being out in that harsh blizzard, Ashlyn had found what looked to be a nice, spacious cavern. It would've been pitch-black inside if not for the faint crimson glow of a few crystalline constructs, spirit gems, nearby, the one item that'd saved him from passing. There was a small pile of sticks in the centre of the room, probably firewood. And the quiet bubbling of a stream could be heard left of him, somehow not frozen over in the gelid temperatures of winter.

Roland wondered where the agony he'd experienced came from. When he realised he had actually been shot, the pain wasn't that awful. Maybe Ashlyn had an idea...

"Ashlyn?" he said, immediately grabbing her attention. He tried to voice his question as to not agitate her. "Do you... know why that hurt so much? It didn't hurt that much before."

She shrugged, but did end up replying. "I probably didn't give you enough spirit gems. The wound looked fine when I gave them to you, but then you just... broke down. That bullet must've hit more than just your stomach. And that's why I'm surprised you aren't dead. It... Th-That wound was... should've been fatal."

Ashlyn lowered her head, guilt evident on her expression.. He exhaled deeply, not wanting her to look so apologetic after what she'd went through.

"Well, it might be a miracle, but you still saved me." He grinned in an attempt to soothe her. "Thanks for that. I'm not sure what I would do without you."

She didn't glance at him, but he saw a little smirk play on her mouth. Her quivering seemed to come to a halt then. He was glad he'd done something right. Perhaps he could start focusing on other matters?

He soon decided to check on something else. For instance, his appearance... was disgusting. It was so disgusting, in fact, that he had to gag. His usually red and grey scales were discoloured, stained with his own fluids. He looked as if he'd jumped in a pool full of deep red paint. He then turned his head to Ashlyn and noticed his blood mingling with her blue scales, as well. They both undoubtedly needed a wash.

Roland found he wasn't able to get to his own feet to walk over to the little stream. He was light-headed and just couldn't muster the strength. What he needed was rest, but he wasn't going to fall asleep sopping wet. So he had a different idea involving the ice dragoness.

"Hey, um... Ashlyn? Can you help me up?"

She lifted a brow. "Are you sure about that? You look tired, Roland."

"I'll be fine," he uttered. "I'll sleep after I clean myself off, okay?"

She nodded in realisation before handing him her paw, which he gratefully accepted. "Just... Lean against me. I'll hold you."

After struggling onto his suddenly trembling legs, he did as he was asked. Ashlyn used a wing to hold him upright as they unhurriedly made their way over to the small stream. He was appreciative of the assistance she was lending him; he surely wouldn't have made it even a single step without her.

"Are you alright getting in yourself, or do you need Ashy to help you with that too?" She giggled lowly at her own words.

Roland looked down at the water source. Instead of seeming chilly, he could see vague plumes of steam rising from its surface. Some kind of hot spring, perhaps? If it was warm, then there had to be something around to make it so; maybe a river of scalding hot lava? He almost laughed at that, but it was definitely possible. Whatever it was, he was thankful for the bath he was about to receive. He felt that he wasn't going to explore this place further, anyway.

"Can you, um..." He ran a paw through his frills, feeling a little embarrassed by what he was going to ask of her. "Can you hold my paw?"

She didn't appear to be fazed by the request. "Yeah, of course I can."

Before doing so, he had to wonder. Why was he mortified by the thought of holding her paw? He'd only just hugged her, for Ancestor's sake! He shook his head at his stupid thoughts.

His legs shaking under his bodyweight, he took a step away from her, trying to hold himself up with her forepaws. Fortunately, he was successful in taking one step into the stream. As he'd observed earlier, it was warm. It felt amazing on his scales.

"Gosh, that feels good." He looked back at her. "You should hop in, Ash. You look you could use a wash."

Now she was nonplussed. "Uh... I, um... O-Okay, I'll think about after I..." She looked around the room and her eyes seemed to settle on the sticks in the centre of the room. "I make a fire! Yeah..."

And now the thought of bathing with him was too much for her. Too _intimate_. Roland sniggered at the behaviour displayed. The toasty warmth of a campfire sounded great, however. Other than the foot he had under the body of hot water, he was freezing. A little more heat would do him a great deal.

Roland released Ashlyn's paw and proceeded to submerge the rest of his paws. After lowering his body, he was finally able to relax after his strenuous effort to make it to the other side of the room.

"Thanks again," he said, receiving another smile from Ashlyn.

"No problem. It's the least I can do..."

Ashlyn wandered off to the centre of the capacious cavern and grabbed two tiny stones in her paws. Meanwhile, Roland closed his eyelids and rested peacefully, the running waters slowly beginning to cleanse his scaled figure of the red filth coating him. It stained the small stream of water a deep hue of scarlet, but from what he could tell, the liquid ran off somewhere. How that worked with the freezing temperatures of today was unknown to him, but he wasn't going to complain about it.

Once he'd been thoroughly bathed, the tiny river's crimson shade faded, changing to it's usually clear blue tint. He glanced over at Ashlyn and noticed the small fire she'd created in the middle of the room. He wondered if the cave would fill up with smoke, but apparently not; the black clouds drifted off to the left, towards an exit he hadn't taken note of yet. It seemed to lead off to an entirely different space. Just how big was this cave system?

The ice dragoness treaded over to him and grinned somewhat nervously, pulling the satchel she had off of her neck. She pulled out Nara's hand drawn map and set it down beside the pool.

"Have you got something else in there?" Roland asked, making room for Ashlyn. She nodded quickly.

"A couple of spirit gems..."

She emptied the bag of crystals, just as she'd told him they would be there. They dissolved and Roland didn't feel much of a difference. He frowned.

"What's that supposed to- Ooh..." He felt a pleasant tingling crawl up his spine that quickly ended up coursing through the rest of his body. He quivered in delight.

"You sound like you've never felt that before." She beamed, taking a few nervous steps into the hot spring. Despite sounding like she'd done this several times, she still shivered on contact with the now infused water.

"No... Never." He felt as if he was receiving the world's best massage; his limbs were loosening constantly racing mind was put at ease.

"My mother had her ways." She leaned herself on the wall of the stream opposite him, relaxing. "She was talented, in a sense... Kind of a massagist."

"A massagist?" he exclaimed, a bit surprised. That was a unique occupation for someone, especially a dragon, what with their sharp implements and generally huge size. Back in the city of Avalar, Roland had only ever been capable of finding one. A mole down in the poorer district. Of course, he didn't let the mole touch him. He squirmed uncomfortably at the thought.

"Yeah, it's not what a dragon would generally do, but she wanted to be a little different." Ashlyn smiled, probably at the memories of her mother. "I came home with a few bruises one day and she used this same treatment on me; hot water and a few healing gems. It works well."

"She sounded cool," Roland said, smiling widely. "What about your dad?"

"He worked in construction. He had a lot of weight on his shoulders, what with carrying a business and such. When I... left... he had a project in Warfang. Look how far that got him."

"Oh." Roland quickly lost the smile. "That's... I'm sorry for him."

"I'm sure he didn't mind in the end. He still would've gotten paid for it." Ashlyn momentarily looked down. "He only cared about the money, anyway..."

Roland hated that look on her face. Even the slightest amount of sadness from her didn't sit well with him anymore. So now that he felt a little revitalised, he slowly paced over to Ashlyn and put on a grin to cheer her up.

"Don't worry about him, Ash. Look forward to the future, not the past..."

"You've said that before..." Within a second of her remark, she sniggered. "I've now said _that_ before."

"Gee, Ashlyn," he said, chuckling. "You need to stop repeating yourself."

"You bag of scales," she muttered, shaking her head in simulated disbelief. "Forget what I said. You should change... So damn irritating, you are."

Roland pulled a petulant face. "Aww, you big meanie. You hurt my feelings..."

"Good." Ashlyn appeared to be incredibly proud of herself. "You deserve it."

After laughing their amusement off, Ashlyn hopped out of the little spring. She offered Roland her paw again, which he did, of course, gladly take. Despite feeling refreshed after bathing, he was still somewhat weak on his paws; he was probably capable of treading around on his own now, but he wanted to be cautious, just in case he did accidentally slip up.

She helped him over to the pile of firewood she'd recently set alight to dry themselves off. It was nice to have warmth spreading throughout their almost homey cavern, but where had she gotten the sticks from? There was a jungle outside obviously, yet she'd found the time whilst she was carrying him to safety. He asked her the question on his mind and the response he received was alarming.

"You were out for hours, Roland..."

Hours? He'd been knocked unconscious for that long? The period of time just one bullet had put him down for was stunning. He didn't want to find out how lengthy the wait would've been if he'd taken a few more. That is, if there would even be a wait in the first place.

"I had a bit of time in between that, so I went out and collected some firewood while you were recovering. I didn't want to spend too much time out there, in case... yeah. But trust me, it was difficult trying to find dry sticks amongst the snow."

Ashlyn sighed, laying down on her stomach and resting the side of her head atop her paws. "You took a few spirit gems before I left, so I thought you would be fine for a little while. Plus, I was thinking you might appreciate it."

Roland inclined his head, following her actions so he could keep his eyes on her. "Well, I do. It's better than the snow out there."

"You're welcome..." She looked up momentarily before looking at him once more. "You should get some sleep, Roland. You've been through a lot today."

"Um, are you sure?" Roland frowned. "I think you've done enough. I'll keep watch."

"Roland, I'm being serious." Ashlyn gave him a stern look. "You were just shot. You can't afford to stay up. Go to bed."

He sighed deeply. "I'm fi-"

"Oh, go to sleep!" she demanded furiously. Roland recoiled in fear; it'd been so long since she'd yelled at him like that. He averted his gaze from her.

"S-Sorry..." he murmured, shaken. "Okay."

He could admit that, in spite of how friendly they'd both been with each over time, he was easily frightened by her. At times, she was so... aggressive. But in reality, he knew she'd resorted to a shout because of his stubbornness and unwillingness to accept her simple, reasonable request. That, and she was only trying to care for him.

"I'm sorry for yelling," Ashlyn uttered quietly. "You need the rest, though, Roland. You know that."

He took one last glance at her and smirked. "Yeah. It's okay..."

Soon, he let the warm embrace of the fire lull him into a comfortable slumber. It'd been a huge, arduous day for him. Ashlyn was correct when it came to him easing off for now. He really did need the rest.

Perhaps tomorrow would go slightly better? Hopefully it wouldn't involve being shot again...

* * *

Roland's day began relatively well. He was feeling light-headed, sure, but he knew he could start journeying south once more, now that he wasn't incapable of moving himself. Ashlyn was a little dubious of already getting a move on, but he reassured her he would be completely fine and ended up getting her to reluctantly agree

The exasperating whiteout from earlier had cleared up, as well, leaving dense mounds of snow everywhere in its wake. Unfortunately, the temperature hadn't changed all that much; the chilly breeze bit at his scales. At least he had his scarf, washed after being stained, almost ruined, by his own fluids. Ashlyn was nice enough to do that for him while he was unconscious. It made the trip more bearable.

Ashlyn pulled the artwork out of her satchel to take a look at where they were travelling. Roland leaned to his left slightly, trying to take a peek. From his angle, the map wasn't legible, however.

"We've still got a little ways to travel," she said, taking a quick glance at him. "It's still several kilometres, if this map is correct. Maybe another two days of travel with stops."

Roland was glad his objective wasn't too distant now. It wouldn't be too long before he could get his paws around whatever he so desired.

And if he wasn't granted wishes, he could boast to the Atlawa village about braving the strangely snowy jungles of Tall Plains. Maybe even about surviving what surely should've been a fatal stomach wound. That sounded like a good bit of fun to him.

Of course, he was hoping for the former. Wishes sounded impossible, but if there was a chance, it kept him going... Plus, being able to travel with someone he could call his best friend was so much fun, regardless of the challenges and dangers they'd faced together... That was enough reason to continue, right?

Was entertainment really his _only_ reason to search for the shrine? Roland had been doubting himself a lot over the course of this adventure, but now it was definitely irking him. The more he thought about those wishes, however, the more he forced himself forward. He sighed out loud, earning a sideways glance from Ashlyn, but no conversation.

He tried to push aside his practically non-existent motives for now. There were things he'd rather ponder. He peered around his surroundings in an attempt to find something else to think about. And to his right, he became aware of an abandoned, tentless encampment. The scent of smouldering timber filled his nostrils and one of those turrets he'd seen randomly lying around had been constructed in the centre.

Roland eventually came to realise that the tiny camp site he was seeing was also the area he'd been nearly fatally wounded in yesterday. He spun around and gazed at the ice dragoness.

"Hey, Ash? Can we go over there quickly?" He stopped padding along and pointed towards the deserted bivouac.

"Uh, okay. We're only wasting time, though."

As soon as they'd walked over to it, he started to inspect the cannon. It seemed complex at first glance, but that wasn't case; it was really only a hollowed cylinder, the barrel, connected to a box with little handles for turning it. There was platform behind it for the user. It only seemed so befuddling because of the other metallic bits and pieces it was glorified by.

Ashlyn was off looking at the remains of the campfire. Roland didn't know how the storm hadn't covered it up, or how the cloaked figures kept such a thing alight in a heavy snowstorm. Maybe it was some kind of elemental magic?

However, he didn't care all that much. He was too intrigued by the object that had just about murdered him.

He leaped up onto the platform and fiddled with the handles, twisting and turning them out of curiosity. As he did so, the cannon spun around to aim at whatever he wanted. He lined its barrel up with Ashlyn because he thought it would be funny to look. It turned out he wasn't in the mood for accidentally killing her, so he spun it around.

As he toyed with the weaponry, he found two little triggers on either handle, obviously for firing it. He figured it wasn't going to work. He grabbed his companion's attention and grinned, thinking of a way to play with her for his own amusement.

"Hey, Ashlyn!"

The dragoness looked over at him. She seemed perplexed at first, but registered what he was about to do a moment later. Shock was quickly written all over her face "Uh... Roland? You're not going to-"

"Yeah, watch this! BA-"

Not expecting the cannon to actually discharge ammunition, he pulled the snappy triggers. An almost deafening, resounding explosion cut him off. In his immediate surprise, he let go of the handles, took a few frightened steps backwards, tripped off of the platform he was standing on and landed back-first on the snowy floor behind him.

His attempt at poking fun at her had well and truly backfired; he'd only made a fool of himself. Ashlyn snorted with laughter.

"You deserve that." She wandered over to him, a smirk widening on her muzzle . Roland could simply not agree more.

"Y-Yeah, um..." He scrambled to lift himself up. "That didn't happen."

"I think you'll find it did. And from now on, I'm going to wake you up everyday and remind you." She chuckled again, offering him her paw. Roland narrowed his eyes, but ended up taking it, quietly thanking her. Ashlyn was never going to let him live down his machine gun failings...

Of course, he could see the humour in the predicament. If she wanted to awaken him every sunrise with a flippantly snide remark, he'd only have to get back at her. And for him, that was a walk in the park.

"Okay, okay..." He brushed the snow between his scales off. Silence hung in the air for a few moments before Roland voiced a question about the miniature campsite. "Where is everyone, Ashlyn? Why has this spot been abandoned so suddenly?"

"I, uh," she stammered quietly. "I killed... One of them died. The rest ran off."

"Oh..." Roland knew he should've been ecstatic knowing his attacker had been slain, but he felt anything but. Even the demise of his enemies was depressing. He exhaled through his snout. "Do you... know where the body is? Did you get to see what they actually were?"

Ashlyn lowered her brow considerably. "No, I didn't. Do you really think I had the time? For the love of the Ancestors, Roland... You were shot! I wasn't going to sit idle and watch you die..."

"Well, the body should still be here." He tried to ignore her compassion – he couldn't help smiling internally at her words – and started to glance around for any signs of what he was searching for. "They couldn't have just vanished."

"I have a feeling one of them might've grabbed the body while I was bringing back spirit gems for you... And I'm kind of surprised they didn't murder you right then. They... They had every chance to."

It really was a miracle. Roland was exceptionally lucky when it came to... just about anything he'd been through over the past few weeks, actually. He was absolutely shocked by his good fortune. Was he blessed? That was, of course, impossible to confirm, but he definitely felt like it. He hoped this seemingly endless stream of great luck would never come to a halt.

Well, maybe he wasn't all that fortunate. He still had to go through those traumatic events. The main thing was that he'd actually survived all that, though. Taking a strike to the spine, living through the total incineration of the dragon city, now awakening from what should've been a lethal injury...

He had to admit that he was probably the single most lucky dragon in all the realms.

"Well, look on the bright side, Ash. I'm still here! That's a good thing, right?"

Ashlyn snickered. "That depends."

"What?" He stopped himself from glaring, instead laughing with her. "You're nice, aren't you?"

"I can be."

Before long, the two continued on their merry way. Ashlyn seemed a little wary after the occurrence yesterday. Rather than pacing along by herself, she stayed within a paw's reach to him, and instead of her usual silence, she tried to keep a conversation between them going. Roland responded to the best of his ability, but he wound up feeling exhausted. A lot of her words didn't make it to him.

He knew he was in need of a break. But he only continued walking. She would obviously be patient with him, he knew that for sure, but slowing her down for his sake was not something he was prepared to do. He didn't want to frustrate her. He didn't want to be a liability.

Ashlyn did ask him if he was feeling okay on multiple occasions, and he always responded with a quick nod of his head. He had a feeling if he did anything but that, she would stop and force him to rest, much like yesterday.

Hours later, they did come to a stop, however. Night had fallen, thus Ashlyn had made the decision to set up camp. He would've kept pushing onward, but her choice was clearly more intelligent. Who knew what was out there, lurking in the shadows? Wild animals? Hooded figures? Dreadwings, even? Roland didn't want to know.

As he scarfed down some paw-picked berries from a plant that had miraculously not been asphyxiated in the snowfall – maybe it was some kind of _snow plant_ – he peered at the map he had; Ashlyn had let it go a few moments so he could have a read. It was difficult to tell in the darkness, but the journey ahead didn't seem too far now. He could actually find this very spot on the tiny drawing. They only had a day's walk ahead, from the looks of things.

He was overly excited. He could almost feel his claws wrapping around the rewards he yearned for. Absolutely anything was within his grasp at this point.

He shook his head. No, he shouldn't have been getting too thrilled over this. The chances were next to nothing. He'd come up with a reason for going now, though; only because it'd been so close to Alevor's smithy. And he'd thought it might be an enjoyable outing for both of them. Of course, having people trying to murder him wasn't very enjoyable, but he tried his best to put that behind him. It'd be worth it in the end.

He raised his head from the hand-drawn map and passed it back to Ashlyn before gazing out at the area around him. They were seated on the edge of a huge cliff side, staring down into the icy waves far below. He realised where the name of the jungle had come from now; the plains around him really were tall. A long, flimsy bridge crossed the large, gaping maw of sea between other tiny land masses, and it eventually came to rest at the start of an expansive island cloaked by more wintry trees. He still couldn't get over the fact that Tall Plains, the purportedly tropical jungle, was covered in snow. It was so odd!

"Do you know why it might be snowing here, Ashlyn?" he questioned the dragoness seated beside him. He had a fair idea of why these circumstances seemed so unusual, but he wanted to know what she was thinking about the subject.

"Oh, um..." She put a paw under her jaw, looking as if she was pondering his question. "I... don't know, really. Maybe it has do with how close we are to the White Isle? Again, I'm not sure."

"Yeah, I thought that exactly," he said. "Maybe we're more alike than we think?"

"Keep dreaming, Roland." She nudged his side with her wing, a lopsided grin on her face. He sighed contentedly.

"Well... I'm off to bed." He ran a paw through his messy frills. "Unless you want me to-"

"No," she interrupted him, "you need the sleep. You've been looking exhausted all day."

So she had caught on. She was definitely an observant dragoness. "Just how long have you been staring at me exactly?"

"Long enough to realise we shouldn't have left so soon."

Another breath escaped his mouth, this one irritated. "I'm only feeling a little light-headed. I'm sure I'll be fine."

"It's not like we'll be sitting around now that we've left." Her face grew serious. "Now hurry up. Go to bed. I'll wake you up if something happens."

Roland glanced about. "I don't see a bed."

Ashlyn glared at him. "Seriously, Roland..."

"Alrighty then." He slowly wandered away from her and flopped onto the floor next to an old stump. There was no fire tonight; Ashlyn had told him it would be foolish and imprudent, now that they knew there were enemies surrounding them. In fact, she'd selected this spot specifically because of the lack of cannons.

It didn't matter now. Apart from his slight dizziness after pacing around so much, today had been a great day for him, clearly better than yesterday. He wished his days would always go by like this: tranquil and full of happiness.

Unfortunately, tonight was going to be a cold one because of the lack of a fire. Roland did prefer freezing over being mortally wounded, but it was still irritating to say the least. He would've snuggled up against Ashlyn, but he was sure he would be fine. Plus, he wasn't in the mood to get up anymore.

He did, however, doze off pretty quickly after whispering a goodnight to Ashlyn. Even winter's chilly embrace wasn't enough to stop him from feeling absolutely at peace.


	19. To Catch an Adversary

**100 000 words... WHAT AN ACHIEVEMENT!**

* * *

To Catch An Adversary

"Hey, Roland. Wake up."

"Mm? Yeah? What is it, Ashlyn?"

"Remember that machine gun?"

Roland simply couldn't believe what he was hearing. He glared at the ice dragoness staring at him. A tiny smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. She'd actually reminded herself to tell him about yesterday's gunfire mishap. He was astonished, really.

"Seriously, Ashlyn?" He looked into the sky for few moments, taking note of the time; it seemed fairly late in the morning. "Couldn't you have given me just a few more minutes."

"If I did, you would've said exactly the same thing," she responded, her smirk growing slightly. "I know you need rest, Roland, but I think we should get moving. It's, what, eleven? Plus, if we go now, we might arrive by nightfall."

Roland groaned before reluctantly lifting himself off of the frosty trunk he'd called a bed last night. Sure, he'd been excited for this day for a long time now, but he almost wanted to ignore her request. He could do with a couple more moments to himself.

Before they did end up going, however, he thought about filling his stomach. Berries weren't substantial. He needed a cut of nice, tender meat; a hearty meal cooked over open flames, much like that wrinkly, strangely delectable rodent. It wasn't like their objective was going anywhere. They had all the time in the world to hunt for something decent before they arrived at the shrine.

"Can we find something to eat before we leave, Ashlyn?" Roland looked at her pleadingly. "Something better than a few berries?"

Ashlyn's response was one of surprise. "What? There's people out there, Roland... People that want us dead. And all you can think about is hunting?"

"Well, yeah... I mean, it'll be fun. Just the two of us." Roland had to admit that his idea was quite unintelligent, but he still wanted to go along with it. He sighed. "I know it sounds stupid, but have you seen a single cannon around here? I doubt there's anyone around us right now.

"Roland, seriously..." She narrowed her eyes. "Can we just go?

Roland grinned. "Not until we find a meal."

"Are you really that stubborn?"

"Yep."

"Ugh, fine!" she unwillingly agreed. "On the way, okay? We won't be wasting time that way."

Roland shrugged. That was probably a better idea than his own, anyway. He did hope, however, that there wouldn't be a cannon on the next island. "That's good enough for me. Let's make tracks, then."

A few moments of stretching later and Roland took his first step onto the bridge – it was more a flimsy tangle of ropes and old, chipped boards of wood – crossing the immense chasm of sea before him. It trembled under even the slight amount of weight he was putting on it. He wasn't too certain if traversing the gap this way was for the best.

"I think we should just fly across," Roland said. "This thing's not very strong."

"What happened to the no flying rule?" she asked, smiling once more. He took one long, blank look at her, which only caused her to snort with laughter.

Roland decided to take one more step to truly confirm the strength of this seemingly fragile bridge. As soon as he'd done so, the plank cracked under his footing and he stumbled backwards. He watched it fall deep into the chilly sea below.

"Yup, we're definitely flying," he uttered with a quick nod. Without stopping to hear Ashlyn snigger at him, he leaped off of the winter floor and took to the skies.

He could never get over how great it felt to soar through the blue yonder, especially at this time of the year. The breeze was calm, gently tickling at his scales. The salty scent of the sea below him filled his nostrils and he could almost taste that smell on the tip of his tongue. And the sights were truly something to behold; a huge mass of snowy islands, big and small, conjoined by old, rickety bridges. It was quite stunning, to say the least. He was surprised he was only just taking all of this in now.

He gazed out to the far south and what he saw was much more impressive than the sights before him. The White Isle was on the remote horizon, home to the Chronicler and a library full of tomes rumoured to be legendary. He couldn't quite make out its features, but it was a massive island and, atop it, he could spot a building. He was unsure what type of structure it was, but even from his position, it was remarkable.

He felt alive. More so than he ever had. Of course, he was no senile, but flying made him feel outstanding. It was an ability a dragon would generally take for granted, yet he enjoyed every moment of if. Taking in the sights, the smells, the _feelings_. It was fantastic. He never wanted this to end.

"You look like you're enjoying this," Ashlyn exclaimed, a frown present on her scaly face. He looked over at her before chuckling somewhat abashedly to himself. "Well, don't get used to it. Our stop is just over there."

After a further minute of gliding towards his destination, he ultimately had to touch down. Despite how he desired to continue his flight across the land, it was for the greater good if he stopped. He didn't think he could endure another slug to the abdomen, or anywhere really. A disappointed sigh escaped his maw.

"Come on, Roland," Ashlyn said. "Only a few hours left."

"I'm glad." He grinned. "And then we've got the return journey."

"Don't remind me..."

And the pacing continued once more. Roland wanted to use his wings again. One second more would be more than enough to satisfy him. But of course, that was unreasonable at this moment. Maybe when he thought about returning to the main continent... Unless Nelly, his strange serpent friend, was willing to blast across the seas at ridiculous speeds again. As disorienting as that was, it'd been incredibly fun while it lasted. How did a monster of that size move so fast? Lightning magic, perhaps? He wasn't sure. Some reading was definitely in order when he decided to travel home.

 _Home_... Where was home? After that unfair trial in Avalar, after being banished, he'd completely lost what he would've called his home now. He could probably get back to the broken sewer pipe he'd used as his residence for so long without being spotted, but that was clearly not what he wanted to do now. Over time, he'd gained what one might call standards. So where was he going to go after all of this? Where did his future lie?

Roland couldn't be certain. Thus far, his trip across the Dragon Realms had been unpredictable. Weeks ago, he would never have imagined himself being here, exploring a frozen ravel of twisting branches and snow, travelling to a shrine that would supposedly grant him whatever he desired most. It was completely unforeseen, and it almost seemed impossible, yet here he was.

The question, however, was about his future. When would he leave Tall Plains? Where would he end up going? He turned his gaze to Ashlyn. Would she continue to follow him? What if she had other plans? After spending such a great deal of his time with her, the thought seemed so far away, but felt so awfully close at the same time, for their expedition was almost at an end now.

Roland cleared his throat, grabbing Ashlyn's attention. "Ash?"

"What is it?" she questioned him, a slight smile still evident on her face. He looked at the snowy floor.

"Can I ask you something?"

Ashlyn quietly sniggered to herself. "You just did."

He wasn't in the mood for her tomfoolery, as much as it usually amused him. "No, I'm being serious, Ashlyn."

"Okay," she said, a look of genuine concern replacing her mischievous smirk. "Yeah. Anything, Roland."

"Well," he started, "I was just thinking about the future. And I wanted to know what you might be thinking of doing after we're done here. Do you have any plans?"

"I... haven't really given it much thought," she admitted. "But now that you've mentioned it, I think I have a fair idea."

Roland lifted his brow, surprised by how quickly she'd come up with something. "What did you have in mind?"

"Do you remember that night in Warfang?" she inquired. "Back in that old slum with... Seth?"

It hurt Roland to hear his name again. It only served to remind him of what he'd done to the brown dragon. "Yeah, um... I do."

"Well, do you remember what I told you then?"

Roland had to ponder her question for a couple of seconds. It'd been a while ago now; he could hardly remember any of the good times they'd shared in the dragon city. Only the bad memories stuck, like the mansion that could magically break reality, or just the burning of the city itself. After a while, he shook his head, unable to think about a single conversation they'd had back then.

Ashlyn sighed. "Back when we were on the rooftop, I told you I had nowhere else to go. I told you I would follow you... That hasn't changed, Roland."

He was relieved to hear that. It turned out she was going to follow him, no matter where he ended up travelling. A warm smile grew on his muzzle.

"It means a lot to me to hear that, you know," he said, glancing up at her. "I didn't think you would still want to come with me after we made it to the shrine. In fact, I didn't know if you would want to go on this kind of pointless journey at all. I doubt magic that powerful actually exists."

"You've got to have someone to save your life." She smirked. "But you've been good to me. That's a debt I can't repay. So I'm following you. I want to go with you and I don't care where our travels take us, as long as I'm with a friend. As long as I'm with you, Roland, I'm happy."

He lifted his head, now beaming at her words. He couldn't quite count the amount of times she'd praised him for being a good friend, but he appreciated it all the same. "I... don't really know what to say. I guess a thank you would be a good start."

"There's no need. I'm the one who should be thanking you. But then you'd tell me I don't have to and we'd be stuck in an endless loop."

Roland laughed at the truth in her statement. "Yeah..."

Ashlyn fell silent after releasing a contented sigh. Roland could only smile as they continued their walk, feeling great about himself. Just knowing their adventures together weren't going to come to a close anytime soon made him all the more joyful. Even with the constant threat of death looming in the air, he was happy to be by her side.

"So..." He soon decided he had another thing to ask of her. "Where do you think we should we go after this wish nonsense, anyway? I don't really have plans."

"Um, well..." Ashlyn looked to the dense canopy above her. "I'm not sure. Unless you want to... I don't know. We... We could settle down somewhere."

Roland turned his wandering eyes to her, now gaping slightly. "Wait... Are you trying to say-"

"No!" she yelled out, clearly embarrassed. "No, not at all! I meant more as... friends. Housemates, you know? Not as... Yeah, that's a silly idea. Forget I said anything."

Roland immediately shook his head, heat rising to his cheeks. "No, um... I-I think that's a cool idea. Honestly, I wouldn't mind living with you. It'd be... great."

"Y-You do?" she exclaimed, clearly astonished. "Um, I... I guess..."

"Sure, why not?" Roland chuckled at their shared mortification. "It sounds better than spending the rest of my life alone."

Ashlyn smiled slightly. "Yeah, um... That sounds okay. But then that brings up the question of where we would actually live. I mean, we can't exactly buy a house. And where would we find one? How would we-"

"Ashlyn," he interrupted her ramblings, "just leave it for now. We can think about the future when we get back to the village. Let's focus on getting to that shrine first."

She nodded in response before quietness overtook them both. Roland could easily imagine himself living out somewhere tranquil with Ashlyn. Maybe they could erect a house in the middle of nowhere, similar to Darryl's cottage? It wasn't as if anybody was going to complain. Nobody would know. That did seem like gruelling work, however. He wasn't positive whether he had the strength, or the patience, to do such a thing

For now, though, he tried to not think about it. There were too many questions to take into account. So he continued walking ever onward. He looked over at Ashlyn, who'd pulled the map out of her black leather satchel. He watched as she scrutinised it for a moment before putting it back in her pouch.

"Just checking our path?" he asked. She nodded.

"Yep. I can confirm we'll make it by tonight," she added cheerfully. That sounded great! It wouldn't be too long now.

Their trek proceeded quietly for the next hour. Roland had taken to counting every single leaf he could see in the frozen canopy above. He'd only just managed to reach twenty-two hundred. As bland as that may have seemed, it was at least some form of entertainment.

Roland cursed to himself when he suddenly lost count; Ashlyn grimaced, probably because she'd hardly heard him swear. He offered her a tiny, apologetic smirk, which she happily returned.

He couldn't be bothered beginning once more, so he instead gazed at the floor, forming a pathway through the trees ahead in his mind, taking care now not to bump into them. The jungle seemed to be getting more dense the further they walked.

Actually, the sheet of snow smothering the wild flora had become much thinner as he'd moved farther into the jungle, so much so he could spot grass and flowers poking up out of the floor. The trees were getting much closer to each other, thus they must've been doing a better job shielding the ground from the snowfall.

Now that he was on the subject of the plant life in Tall Plains, he had to wonder. How were the plants surviving these harsh conditions? Of course, he was mostly fine in this cold – he'd come down with a bit of a sniffle, however – but these were tropical plants. They should've died out days ago now. He frowned before voicing the question to Ashlyn.

"I'm pretty sure it's earth magic. While the Atlawa aren't as proficient in magic as dragons, I'm pretty sure they would know at least a few nature spells. They like their plants, so I guess they wanted to protect it all from the cold."

"But how's that possible?" he asked. "These islands are huge! That tribe surely couldn't support the entire jungle..."

"There's more than one village around here, Roland," she answered, "and they all probably have a skilled druid. We just haven't happened to see one yet. They're pretty well hidden."

That made sense. The task was most likely divided among every village. Why they were so fond of nature was unknown to him, but he wasn't complaining right now. They were doing him a great service, protecting him from the vast snowfall above.

"Where did you find the time to read so much into Atlawa?" Roland certainly was perplexed, what with her past. Aurus and all that... murdery business. It wouldn't be possible to read with so much going down, would it? Well, it turned out he was proven wrong.

Ashlyn let out a sigh. "I don't know why, but Aurus... He gave me books to read when I wasn't out doing his bidding. It was as if he was trying to make me feel at home. I think he might've been insane."

"He gave me a book on those llamas once," she continued. "There was an Atlawan target. I had to research a great deal for him."

Roland understood now. He was rather surprised by her knowledge. "You're smart, you know that? You know so much..."

She seemed taken aback by his little compliment. "Thanks. Um... You're not half bad yourself."

Roland poked her side with his wing, grinning slightly. "You deserve every compliment."

"Uh, what?" Ashlyn stared at him, wide-eyed. Roland realised his words had been interpreted in a way he obviously didn't intend... Or maybe she was trying to get a reaction out of him. No, her response was too authentic for that. He went along with the former, anyway.

"Um... I mean..." He would've buried his head in his paws if he wasn't trying to walk. "I didn't mean it like that!"

She giggled before softly slapping his side with the flat of her tail blade. "It's okay, Roland. I already know I'm beautiful, anyway."

Roland narrowed his eyes into a glare, but didn't bother continuing the conversation. He wasn't sure how to add his own words on to that. He wanted to say something along the lines of, 'you wish', but he'd only end up getting another retort from her.

He stopped staring at the dragoness and looked to the imaginary path ahead, putting his focus on other things. At one point he tried to search for cannons, but there weren't any in his immediate vicinity. So he entertained himself by counting every mahogany tree he could spot in his vision, much like a while ago with the leaves. And for the next few minutes, that was all he did.

Roland stopped and jolted upright when he heard a stick snap, surprising him. It hadn't come from under his paws, or Ashlyn's for that matter. She seemed to have heard it as well from the look on her face. Then there came another sound, like claws scrabbling against bark. He realised it was coming from his left.

After scanning the trees, he saw something that shocked him. Right there, amongst the leaves, probably scrounging for food, was a wrinkly, pink rodent. He wondered why it was out here in the cold and not holed up somewhere hibernating. Maybe it hadn't collected enough food for the winter? Perhaps these creatures didn't go into hibernation at all? He didn't care all that much; after directing Ashlyn's attention to it, he licked his muzzle.

"Those things are feisty, Roland," she whispered, grinning. "Are you sure you can handle it?"

"What kind of question is that?" He almost laughed. "Of course I can."

"Try to be quick about it, alright? I don't want to have to chase after you because you couldn't catch it."

Roland gave her a nod before quietly scampering off to catch his prey. He knew he could do this. He hadn't been a thief for his entire life for nothing. When it came to sneaking about, he was the dragon for the job.

Well, he was probably a little rusty now that he had his mind on it. He hadn't even thought about his old life since that one time in the incinerated city of dragons with Seth. And that time, he'd been punched in the snout instead of getting what he desired. This time, however, was going to be different. That rodent was going to be his, whether it liked it or not.

He glanced back at Ashlyn after hiding from the rat behind a wide tree. She was sitting on her haunches and watching him with a smirk, which he ended up returning. He peered out from his temporary cover and after being certain it hadn't seen him, he crawled away from the trunk and closer to his unsuspecting victim.

Roland started to tread more carefully when he neared the creature. It was trying to grab at the berries on a bush as of now. This was his chance! He stretched his paws, readying his claws, to take it down. And with one final step he...

A noisy crack broke his concentration. He blinked a few times and before he knew it, the rodent was gone. He gasped, now trying to search for it. Thankfully, it hadn't run far, but it was quickly escaping through the foliage.

Immediately, he sprinted forwards. This rodent was not going to outrun him. He might've been going against what Ashlyn had told him, but that didn't matter now. He wanted lunch!

Roland wasn't sure how many trees he'd managed to narrowly avoid slamming into by now. They came dangerously close, but he was much too agile for that to actually happen. Plus, unlike in that blinding whiteout, he was able to see his surroundings. Unfortunately for him, this fat little rodent was just as quick as him, if not faster. It seemed impossible to catch his runaway meal at this point.

But an opportunity soon arose. The number of trees in front of him suddenly dropped to zero, the land now instead opening into a capacious clearing. Roland was startled by the change, but he came to embrace the change in the end. Reaching the creature was going to be much easier without the wooden obstacles blocking his path.

It turned out the snow here was much thicker without the leaves halting its graceful descent. This further added to how much quicker he could get to the rodent. Its small stature obviously made getting through the snow difficult.

And soon, he made it to his victim. Roland grinned before taking a fast swipe at it with his claws. He expected to hit something, but somehow, his swing didn't connect with the creature. He immediately looked down and found that it was trying to burrow into the snowy floor.

"Oh, no you don't!" Roland growled before grabbing its stubby tail in his paws. It screeched at him furiously, desperately attempting to escape his grip. Ashlyn was right when she told him these things were feisty. It swung back and forth, leaped up and down and even tried to claw at his paws with its own. Luckily for Roland, none of its manoeuvres were immediately successful. He was, however, beginning to lose his hold on it.

Roland had to act fast. He pulled himself on top of the screaming animal put his claws to its neck. One quick slice later and the screeching came to an abrupt halt.

Roland lifted himself from the now lifeless body, wiping away the red liquid trickling down his maw. He huffed and puffed after exerting so much energy. After staring at the corpse before him, he spun around to see if Ashlyn had followed him and as he'd foreseen, she was right there. She seemed shocked and also quite angry.

"Are you being serious, Roland?" Ashlyn started to storm towards him. "Did you even listen to me?"

"Um..." He cast his eyes downward. "No... I didn't."

"Don't be a smartarse!" she shouted at him. Roland was a little confused by her response. He was telling the truth... "Couldn't you have been at least a little more silent? I thought you were a thief! And you didn't have to chase that thing. This one's hardly a meal!"

"Okay, okay..." He was getting irritated by her yells. He did not enjoy hearing this from her. Not one bit...

"Now we have to walk all the way back," she continued, "I don't even know where we are on the map. Just... Just listen to me next time."

"Oh, by the Ancestors, Ashlyn..." He was absolutely sick of her right now. "You're not my damn mother! Stop telling me what to do!"

Ashlyn took a few quick steps back, her face clearly showing she was stunned by his display of anger. Roland stared at her for a couple of moments, enraged. Slowly but surely, he started to calm himself down.

When he took another glance at her, he was able to discern the scared look on her face. He'd never seen her frightened before, much less by him. Roland quickly found himself regretting what he'd done. He hung his head low in shame.

"I-I'm sorry." He had no clue what else he could say for that irate outburst. "I, um... I didn't mean to-"

"No, you're right," she cut him off. "I shouldn't be telling you what to do. I... Sorry, Roland."

He lifted up the creature and draped it over his back before managing a little smile. "Let's get going. We can cook this later."

Roland started to move back in the direction he'd come from, but he noticed Ashlyn wasn't pacing with him. He stopped and cocked his head.

"Are you coming, Ashlyn?" Roland asked, somewhat confused. He didn't receive an answer, but she appeared to be staring at something to his right. He frowned before spinning around to inspect the space she was looking at.

He swiftly noticed what she was trying to scrutinise. There was a curious blob of dark green amongst the dull whites of the trees. It looked so out of place sitting up on the snowy branches. He almost wanted to glide up and tear it down. Something about it befuddled him.

And then the spot moved. The spot had arms and legs... and it was wearing a tattered cloak. Roland instantly knew what the spot was. However, before he could even think about sprinting off, a high-pitched squeal, like that of a whistle, echoed across the jungle.

Ashlyn had already unleashed a torrent of dagger-like icicles upon the robed figure. Unfortunately, none of them hit their mark, for the their new opponent had decided to leap out of the way. Roland noticed the pistol holstered by their side now that they weren't trying to blend in. Immediately, he turned and ran, discarding the creature atop his spine.

Not even a few steps in, however, another hooded entity, cloaked in red, leaped from the tops of the trees and blocked the path. After examining the pistol held in their gloved hands for a split second, he darted to his right, avoiding a deafening blast of gunfire.

The noise was painfully loud. A sharp ringing replaced all of his senses; he could barely hold his eyes open. Before he could react to anything else, he felt something strike down on the top of his skull. He let out a startled yelp, the pain disorienting him further. In his dizzy stumbling, he felt something wrap around his neck, sit him upright and hold him completely still.

It took a few moments before he tried to struggle free from the strong clutch of his attacker. In his efforts to make an escape, however, he received another painful blow to the tip of his cranium, causing him to cry out once more. His vision blurred over with tears. Again, he tried to wrench away the arm grasping him tightly, but he was quickly presented with the same pitiless punishment.

"If you keep moving, I will kill you," his adversary's voice came forth. Roland immediately listened to him. That was the last thing he wanted. "And you'd better stop that, dragoness. He'll get it, otherwise."

Roland felt a gun barrel push up against the side of his head. Soon, his vision started to clear, and he was only now registering the terrible situation he'd been put into. He could see so many corpses around her. So much blood staining her blue scales and the snowy floor, yet there were still so many alive forms surrounding her, all directing their own individual weapons at her.

"Good, good," they responded to the sudden halt of her killing spree. Roland could almost feel his captor smirking. "Now I have a question, dragoness. What brings you here?"

"What makes you think I'll tell you?" she snarled back. The entity robed in red laughed at her words. Their voice sent a cold shiver down Roland's spine.

"If you don't answer the question, the dragon dies."

He swallowed a ball of fear. This wasn't happening, was it? He'd only been shot a couple of days ago, and now he was at risk of death again? No, he wasn't going to stand for this. He was going to find a way out.

"We..." Ashlyn's tone told Roland she was worried about him, but she still sounded as if she wanted to be somewhat threatening. "We were headed for that wishing shrine... Are you done?"

Roland tried to look for an exit. The arm around his neck was too tight for him to escape, so that wasn't an option. In fact, he got the feeling that if he even opened his mouth, his skull would be pumped full of lead. There didn't seem to be a way out of this.

"Well, you've come at the perfect time, then. I'm sure Drevon would love to meet you."

 _Drevon_? They were _here_? The last time Roland had seen Drevon, they were on the brink of destroying an entire city. He didn't want to look upon them again. Not one bit.

"You can come with us if you'd like," his enemy said. Roland figured it wasn't an offer.

"Like hell I would do that," Ashlyn responded angrily. She seemed to stare at him for a moment. He gave her a pleading look, even if it wouldn't achieve much. And then she raised her tail...

Roland wasn't sure what she meant for a moment. Before she started to slowly wave it around in the air, he couldn't tell. When he saw that movement, however, he glanced down at his own tail and realised it wasn't pinned down.

This was perfect! Roland wanted to beam at the sudden idea, but he felt his attackers would suspect something. Carefully, he lifted his tail blade into the air and positioned it behind his new target. Of course, murdering somebody was very wrong, but what other choice did he have? It was either him or this entity. He closed his eyes and prepared to run them through.

A sudden wave of agony shot up his tail and through his back. He was confused for a second, but noticed his tail had been forced back to the ground via the heavy boots of his enemy a moment later.

"And don't even think about it, dragon," they scolded him. Roland knew he'd failed Ashlyn. He'd killed them both. Or perhaps he'd done even worse than that. He was good for nothing. Only a liability to her. He cast his eyes down for a moment in shame.

He mouthed an apology to her. Somehow, he managed to get a little smile out of her. How she could be even slightly happy in this situation was beyond him. She quickly lost it, however, and cast her eyes to his holder.

"You don't have much of a choice right now, dragoness," they replied to her previous statement.

"Well, what are you going to do with us?" Ashlyn asked. "We have no money on us, if that's what you're looking for."

"You might have no money on you, but you're definitely going to make us some. Those horns would fetch a nice price. I've also heard there's a grublin settlement way up north looking for dragons. There's quite a market for them, especially whelps..."

Their first remark easily frightened him. He adored the four golden horns jutting out of his cranium. They were a dragon's sense of pride. To lose them would be incredibly humiliating, if not extremely painful. Having something yanked straight out of his head would probably be as agonising as having his paws sliced off, maybe even worse.

"Y-You can't be serious..." Ashlyn was clearly shocked. Roland had almost forgotten he was in a bit of a predicament. Elucidating his own thoughts to himself probably wasn't the best use of his time right now. "What kind of person does that? Who are you? _What_ are you?"

"I can't tell you that, dragoness," they answered. "Strict orders say so... But enough talk. Let us... move off, if you will."

Ashlyn assumed a defensive stance. "I'm not going anywhere with you. I'm not letting you... you sell me off!"

"Unfortunately, you'll find that you're very wrong there. And if you're not going to cooperate, then we don't have much of a choice. Put her to sleep."

Before Roland could even register what they were denoting, one of his adversaries did something truly horrifying. A figure clad in green amongst the crowd put a pistol to her skull and quickly pulled the trigger. For whatever reason, there wasn't a single noise following the action. Not even the crack of gunfire.

Only silence.

Suddenly, she fell to the ground. Her form went still. Motionless. Lifeless. Roland gasped at what he was seeing. She'd just... What had happened?

There hadn't even been a gunshot. There wasn't even a hole in her skull. None of her blood had been spilled. She couldn't have... But there she was. Lying still on the ground.

Tears stung at his eyes. His heart pounded painfully, twisting in his chest; he prayed she was going to be okay. She couldn't just... She wouldn't! They wouldn't! He wouldn't let her! She wasn't going to die from that! He couldn't accept that.

He didn't want to be alone.

The more he stared, however, the more he came to realise how incorrect that notion was. That shot was fatal. It had to be. There was no doubt about it.

She was gone.

"No..."

He didn't even get the chance to break down. The figure holding him cackled maniacally.

"Nighty night, dragon."

There was nothing but agony for a few seconds. Then everything went black...


	20. No Hope

No Hope

Roland slowly cracked his eyes open, grasping at his head soon after. He had the biggest, most irritating, splitting headache he'd had in a long while. It felt as if his skull was quickly closing, caving, in on itself. Those bashings to his cranium earlier must've done him wonders...

It'd only been... a few days since he was knocked out last. Why again? Why couldn't the world leave him alone? Why couldn't his trip be just a little more tranquil? It was already getting on his nerves, but this was... He didn't know how to describe it.

Something else started to irk him then; there was a strange tickling on his maw. He moved a paw to scratch at the vexing itch and was surprised to feel something other than his facial scales. It felt... leathery.

He glanced down and was shocked. There was a muzzle tied to his muzzle! He immediately tried to tear it off with his forepaws – struggled and squirmed – but ended up having no such luck. He grunted and growled, tugging at it with every ounce of strength his muscles could muster, but his efforts turned out fruitless once more.

There were no holes for breathing in the muzzle, either, so he couldn't pull it apart from the inside. There was enough room inside to respire through his nostrils obviously – he wouldn't be alive if that was the case – but not to open his jaws in even the slightest. He tried slicing at the straps next, as they were of leather too. But he couldn't. He looked down at his claws and found they were no longer there.

Those thoughts freaked him out. He speedily reached for his horns next. For a second, he was worried they'd been hacked off, as well. But once he felt the tough substance in his paws, he breathed a hasty sigh of relief. At least they hadn't been stolen from him.

Roland started trying to calm himself. He took a few deep breaths and tried to focus his thoughts on other things... He wondered where he was. He glanced around the room he was in; there were stone bricks overlaying the walls and floor, iron poles and a most likely locked steel door ten or so metres from him, and a corridor that seemed to lead off to the right beyond that. He was definitely in a cell. Why wasn't he surprised?

Roland continued to peer at his immediate surroundings. There didn't seem to be any other objects in the room besides a long chain and a large metallic ring attached to his neck, replacing his scarf, from the wall behind him and a slumbering ice dragoness to his left...

He gasped. He'd completely forgotten about her! Roland swiftly got to his feet and rushed over. Or, well, he tried to... He was barely a metre away from reaching her when the chain securely connecting him to the rock walls pulled at his neck and tripped him up. He lifted himself from the floor once more, furiously trying to snap the chain. It jingled noisily, taunting him, only adding to his already frustrated mood.

She'd received the same treatment as him: denied the ability to speak, her belongings stolen besides her ring, her once sharp claws gone, and tied to the wall via metallic link. He wanted to get over there. He needed to. If he could just awaken her... She probably had an idea of how they could get out of here! But this chain was stopping him from doing anything about it.

After what seemed like forever, Roland realised there was no use in trying to escape the literal iron grip of the chain keeping him from getting any closer. It was hopeless. He breathed a shaky sigh through his snout and flopped over, now trying his best to grab at her. She was so close to him, but he couldn't quite get his paws around hers. This was terrible... This was torture!

He tried to scream out her name, but it only came out as a muffled grunt. Again, he pulled at the muzzle, but his attempts were in vain. He did everything in his power to awaken her; he slammed his paws into the ground next to her, grunted to grab her attention, but nothing was working.

He wanted to yell, wanted to call her name, but he couldn't. It was impossible. If he had an element, he could burn the leathery restraints right off of his maw. Blast it off with earth or put a hole in it with ice. But no. He was cursed to live without something he truly needed right now. In the end, he stopped trying to awaken Ashlyn. He wasn't even sure if she was sleeping, anyway. She seemed so still...

And then he heard a groan escape her muzzled maw.

His jaw would've dropped if it wasn't bound up. He'd done it. He'd actually done it! Roland thanked the Ancestors for his fortune. He eagerly watched as her eyes slowly opened.

The first thing she seemed to see was him because her eyes quickly opened up wide in his direction. She scrambled to her feet, looking as if she was trying to figure out what kind of situation they'd been thrust into and what had happened to her. She looked down at the muzzle, peered at her paws and grasped her horns, all in almost exactly the same shocked fashion as him, albeit a lot faster. Despite their terrible predicament, he couldn't help but grin slightly to himself. Unfortunately, she didn't get to see it.

He was glad she was alright. The firearm that hooded opponent had used must not have been lethal. He wondered what kind of weapon was capable of knocking someone unconscious like that. It'd seemed like any old pistol at the time. Maybe he wasn't observant enough.

After Ashlyn had seemed to have calmed herself down, she paced over to him and put a paw atop his. She looked as if she was trying to offer him a smile, but it was difficult to tell. Still, he tried to look as happy as he possibly could for her and he received quite the joyful reaction in response. He guessed he'd done something right. Somehow...

She released his paw and instead placed it under her chin, showing signs of being in thought. Through an educated guess, he knew she was trying to think of way out of their third cell. Roland got the feeling that making a getaway would be fairly dissimilar to the past couple of times. There wouldn't be an unfair trial and banishment. There wouldn't be an Atlawan blacksmith to rescue them. There wouldn't be anybody helpful for miles. They would have to make it out by themselves.

Ashlyn seemed to think up an idea at that moment, judging by the cheerful look in her eyes. Roland curiously tilted his head rightward, wondering what she had in mind. Not being able to answer, she went through with whatever her master plan was. It involved closing her eyes and... choking on something? She looked like she was trying to regurgitate a past meal, but couldn't possibly do so because of her face brace.

He was concerned at once. Was she trying to suffocate herself? He grunted fretfully, attempting to stop her, but she raised a paw before he could do anything else. She must've been in control. He let it slide for now, although he still insisted on watching her with just as much apprehension.

Ashlyn drew her head back and from behind her muzzle, a muffled splutter escaped her mouth. He wanted to put an end to her actions – she was giving him the impression that whatever she was aiming to do was hurting her – but he was certain she would only be maddened by him. Plus, she appeared to be almost done...

With one more heavy cough, Ashlyn sent a paper-thin shard of ice soaring into the wall right of Roland, ripping a little hole in the material holding her maw together. She'd actually managed to open it up! Roland wanted to shout out in glee. He guessed it was some kind of pressure she'd built up inside of the muzzle.

Next, she got down on her elbows and fitted her forepaws inside the tiny slit the ice had created, where she started trying to rip it to shreds from the inside-out. And only seconds later, she'd succeeded in doing what she'd intended to do. With her strength alone, she'd severed it in two. It was still fastened to her face, but she could open her mouth up now. Roland was beyond excited for her.

"That feels so much better," she said jovially, albeit quietly. If there was anyone around, it made sense as to not alert them to their impending escape. "I'll see if I can get yours off now."

Roland nodded happily. She opened her maw once again and summoned an icicle. Instead of letting it careen into the rightmost wall, this time she let it drop to the brick floor. It looked similar in appearance to that of a small blade.

"Just hold still, Roland." She gave him a reassuring smile. "I'm going to have to cut it off."

Roland did as he was asked. She carefully slid the blade under the strap on the top of his skull. He was more worried about having a brain freeze than being sliced open; the icicle was dreadfully cold atop his head. Still, he trusted her. It wasn't like he had much of a choice if he wanted to free his maw, anyway. He knew she wouldn't injure him. Well, at least not on purpose...

At that moment, he felt the muzzle loosen. He was immediately grateful; just one more slice would do the trick. And before he could even think about shouting out in joy, the muzzle once holding his mouth together so fixedly dropped to the ground beside him. He opened his jaws wide right away, straightening them out after being imprisoned for what was probably hours.

Soon, he let his first words after awakening seep out of his mouth. It felt wonderful to speak again.

"You have no idea how glad I am you're here."

Ashlyn used the keen icicle to slice off the rest of her muzzle, still smiling joyously. "Aww... Does Roly care about me?"

"Of course I do," he answered seriously. "You're the only friend I've got, Ashlyn."

"Um... Yeah..." She sighed at that. His words definitely rang true. They'd managed to find comfort in each other, but anyone else they'd encountered on their travels had really only become mere acquaintances. A talking deer, a mole tavern owner, an Atlawan inventor, among others. All of those people had been oddballs, much like himself and Ashlyn, but he'd never really gotten to know any of them. He promised to himself that he would try to make amends and find them again. To have an actual conversation and personally thank them for everything they'd done for him.

"Uh, okay," Ashlyn eventually broke the silence. "Why don't we work on getting out of here? You can pick locks, right?"

"Not without my claws." He showed her the absence of his nails. "I need something to work with."

"Could you do it with ice?" She angled her head. Roland frowned at the random question, although he did realise what she was suggesting a second later.

"Maybe... I'd need that shard you're holding and the pick would have to tiny. About as small as a pin. Would you even be able to make it that small?"

"I can try. No promises, though," she added with a slight grin, shrugging and passing him the gelid blade. Soon, she closed her eyelids. He gazed on, watching as she tried to channel her elemental power into a lock pick. The ice spikes she generally released for combat must've taken no effort, nor any concentration, for forming something that little seemed to be taking every last bit of her focus... Roland was still jealous of her control over the elements.

She lifted a forepaw and opened it up. Inside of it, an attenuated rod of ice started to form in between her toes. Using other parts of the body for channelling the elements wasn't unheard of. In fact, it was rather common in ice dragons. What he did find strange, however, was her ring; the gemstone embedded inside was glowing a lighter shade of blue. Roland wondered why that was happening now and not when she'd used her element for warding off their enemies. The piece of jewellery was very peculiar. He was also surprised it hadn't been taken from her. It would probably fetch a nice price. Not that he'd thieve it from her now, anyway.

She stared into it for a few moments. Roland frowned. "Can you pass me the pick?"

Another smile pulled at her maw. "The ice pick?"

Roland narrowed his eyes. "Yep..."

"I'm sorry, Roland, but I don't have digging tools on me right now."

He'd seen that coming from a mile away, but he still grinned. "Okay, okay. Pass me the lock pick."

She giggled softly before handing over the frosty pick. Before he took it from her paws, he noticed she was panting quite deeply, and had been before they'd started conversing again. Forming the ice rod must've used a great deal of her energy.

"Yeah, that'll do fine, I think." He grasped it with a forepaw. "You look like you're tired after that, Ash. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." She smiled, clearly trying to put him at ease. "Ice shaping is just not a talent I'm well-versed in. I really have to focus, especially for something that small. I haven't practiced it in... I don't know. It's been quite a while since I've found a use for it."

"Oh well." He sighed. It was just like Ashlyn to say she's feeling alright when, in reality, she's exhausted. Still, he would only receive a yelling if he told her that. "Can you lay down? It's a little hard to stand on two feet when I pick locks."

Ashlyn nodded and did as asked. Roland peered around the heavy metal link attaching her to the wall before laying down, searching for a lock of some kind. It didn't take him very long to find; a tiny, dark hole in stark contrast to the light grey of her iron bonds. It looked so deep when he stared into it, like an abyss gazing back at him.

"Alright," he said. "Let's get started. I'll get you out of that before you can say 'I'm free'."

"I'm free," she said predictably. Roland had to chuckle at that. It was surprising to think she could still have a little fun in this unpleasant predicament. She'd become such a different, happier dragoness over the course of their trek. He couldn't refrain from thinking that again.

His mood lightened, he began. Roland started by fitting the thin rod and blade into their rightful positions. He had to be incredibly gentle and precise when it came to using such fragile implements. The last thing he wanted was for them to shatter and get stuck inside the hole.

He realised this lock had two parts just from feeling around its insides: an outer catch and an inner lock. This one seemed to be designed with gaol breakers in mind; the outermost lock was created specifically for catching him off-guard and destroying the only chance he had to set her free. The first was hidden away inside somewhere, whilst the second was easy to get to. Twisting the second mechanism before dealing with the first would end up snapping his pick and probably even the larger icicle.

Then, the broken ice would get trapped inside and he'd have to wait for it to melt. If his equipment was made of iron and broke, the metal link attaching her to the wall would have to be cut off manually. So, in other words, he had to find the first lock or else he would only end up delaying the inevitable.

This contraption was genius... His efforts were becoming more and more stressful the further he dug into the device. Of course, he would get another shot later if he was unsuccessful, but that would only waste precious time they could be using to escape the cell.

Carefully, he turned the pick, trying his best to keep it intact and find the catch. Doing so was made even more difficult by the fact it was made of ice – it wanted to slip out of his paw – but he could manage just fine. He'd illicitly opened a lot of locks in his lifetime. Of course, he didn't usually do them with a tool, especially one this awkward, but he was certain he was capable enough. He tried to picture the slippery lock pick as an extension of his claws. Somebody had told him that once... He couldn't quite remember who, though.

Eventually, he found the catch he was searching for and slowly started to twist the ice blade clockwise. There came a strange, low creaking from the inside, but the pick remained loose, signifying to him that it was alright to keep turning. He continued and it felt like an eternity had passed before a satisfying click sounded from inside.

"It already feels better, Roland," she uttered encouragingly. "You can do it."

Roland let a smile play on his lips as he continued to work on the metal bonds holding her. He was astonished he'd done this well so far. He'd expected his instruments to snap before he could even start twisting the first lock.

The next lock was relatively easy to get open compared to the first, nor was it as stressful. After only one slow but simple twist of the blade, another soft click resounded from the mechanism. He took the frangible tools out and opened up the metal ring tying Ashlyn to the wall.

"Well, you definitely do know how to use a lock pick," she remarked. "Thank you. Now get yourself out of that and we can work on escaping. This place... It gives me the chills."

Roland grinned. "How can you get the chills when you're an ice dragon?"

"Figuratively, of course." She narrowed her eyes at his foreseeable jest. He sniggered lowly to himself.

"Anyway... I'm probably going to need another pick." As he told her that, he felt something damp slowly snake its way down his foreleg. "Yep. This thing's melting."

It took him a bit longer to unlock himself, and he had to be extra gentle to make sure his new implements wouldn't snap, but he ended up managing to do it. Those tools were just as unusual to use as the first ones, if not more so. It wasn't as if Ashlyn could really help that, though...

Again, the sapphire held by her ring glowed when she used her ice shaping abilities. He desired to know why, but he had more important objectives right now. Like, for instance, picking his way out of his gaol cell.

"Now I just need another pick," he said, "and I can get us both out of here."

"Didn't you _see_ the effort that took?" Ashlyn grinned. "I've already made you two. Do you seriously think I could be bothered creating another?"

Roland returned the gesture. "Come on, we don't have time to waste. We need to get back on the road. That shrine awaits."

"Roland..." She continued smiling, but for whatever reason, it didn't look genuine anymore. "Are you still thinking of going to that shrine?"

"Well, um... I..." Now that they'd been captured, forced to endure horrible agony, was it really still worth it? This wasn't a nice outing at all, like he'd thought earlier. "I don't really know."

"I think we should just go back," she suggested, now losing the smile for a more serious expression. "You've been through enough as is... You've almost-"

"Yeah," he quickly cut her off. He was finding it difficult to not agree with her words. Risking his life for something seemingly impossible to obtain was silly now. "You're right. Let's just focus on getting out of here."

He grinned to himself once more. Her ideas were always good ones. Now, all he had to do was pick the lock on their cell and...

"You know, I'm impressed."

Roland frowned. That voice hadn't come from Ashlyn and it was in no way related to their discussion... He realised somebody was watching him; he turned towards the bars and despair washed over him when he saw a figure cloaked in red.

"I didn't expect you to actually find a way out of that," they said, "but you still managed it in the end. You both seem to know what you're doing. You'll be great for the arena."

Ashlyn looked prepared to throw all she had at this adversary. "You're impressed we nearly escaped you? How does that make any sense? And what's this arena?"

"But of course." They grabbed a set of keys from a pocket in their cloak and waved them mischievously in front of the bars. "Nobody's ever come that close before. And the arena? Just mindless entertainment. I'm sure you'd like it."

That was a blatant untruth. Anything this figure enjoyed was going to be despicable to him. Still, he chose not to speak up. Ashlyn looked as if she had the ensuing conversation under control for now.

"I doubt that," she growled. "What's so fun about 'the arena'?"

"That's for you to find out." They put the key in the door and unlocked it. Roland was immediately surprised. Were they an idiot? They'd practically just let him out! "Come along now. I won't bite."

"Oh, but I will," Ashlyn snarled before releasing a blast of ice shards in their enemy's direction. Roland expected this figure to be impaled, but the exact opposite happened. They pulled a pistol from a holster on their belt and speedily shot every single soaring shard out of the air with immense precision. That damned ringing resounded inside of his head again.

"Don't be silly, dragoness." They seemed amused by her behaviour. Meanwhile, Ashlyn looked utterly shocked. Roland didn't blame her at all; he was just as, if not more astonished than her. Was this weapon magical? "If you do that again, you can spend an afternoon in the Chamber of Fun."

That name... It didn't sit well with him. He had a fair idea of what the 'fun' really meant, but he didn't want to ask about it.

"I was hoping I wouldn't have to force you." They swiftly reloaded their firearm. "I thought you might just come peacefully. But no... Just hurry up. You won't want to miss this."

Ashlyn didn't speak up again; she seemed too astounded to even think about speech. Instead, she mindlessly followed their enemy, clearly unsure of what to do in this muddling plight. Roland hadn't the foggiest idea of how to flee now. If he tried anything, he'd probably be taken to this chamber the figure had told them about. That, or his insides would be pumped full of bullets... So he had no choice but to walk off with them.

"Get in front of me," their captor commanded. "I only want to keep an eye on you."

Roland did as he was ordered, as did Ashlyn. It seemed that, in the end, he actually did end up breaking free of his cell, even if it wasn't in the way he intended to... He would probably be put in there later, anyhow.

Was this now the life he was doomed to live? That thought had suddenly came to him. If he was never going to be capable of escaping this place, then what was going to happen to him next? It turned out the enemy quickly ushering them through the stone hallway had plans.

"It's going to be a long time before we can even think of delivering you to that grublin settlement way up in the Forbidden Mountains. So for now, you're stuck here with us. Boy, are we going to have fun with you..."

Roland shivered. How did they speak about selling off dragons so casually? It was a serious, absolutely dreadful thing to do. Were they insane? They definitely sounded the part.

But the Forbidden Mountains, across the Burned Lands? That was probably the worst place he could be sent to. On the north-eastern side of the Dragon Realms lay an area teeming with hulking, horrifying behemoths. Or so it was said. Most of the area was uncharted. Many had went to explore the terrifying peaks, but many had also supposedly perished there. Its small number of survivors had come back deranged and almost dead. None of them had made any progress in mapping out the area...

This talk about grublins was strange, however. They were once a part of the Dark Master's vicious armies, but after meeting his demise, the last of them had been hunted down. Apparently not, according to them. There must've been a few stragglers left, who then somehow found peace at the Forbidden Mountains. For overgrown, mutated bugs raised out of the soil itself, it was probably a piece of cake trying to fit in with the monsters there...

He turned a corner and found himself in another corridor, this one illuminated by hanging lights. Roland was only just now noticing how many gaol cells there were. Each and every one of them had been taken by two occupants; all of them were either llamas or moles. There were no other dragons besides himself and Ashlyn. Despite the large number of people, the area was unusually silent. A lot of the prisoners looked... traumatised. Their minds broken.

"Isn't all this just lovely?" the figure spoke up once more. "These moles came from Warfang, actually... The Skavenger designs were perfect. Made getting around quite easy."

"Wait, what? Warfang?" Roland finally spoke up. He was befuddled immediately. He thought he and his friends... and Seth, were the only people who managed to escape the dreadwings. There were more questions as well. After that massacre, he hadn't seen a single one of his captor's people at all. Where had they been? How did they capture so many moles? What about the Atlawa? Why weren't there any dragons amongst the collection of prisoners? Why Skavenger designs? Why _destroy_ Warfang? All of these questions came spewing out of his mouth in one huge garbled mess. Somehow, their enemy seemed to understand his mess of words.

"Alright. One at a time." Roland didn't know why they were willing to answer the never ending stream of inquiries, but he was glad they were... Wait, he was glad? For some reason, that didn't feel like the right emotion to be displaying in front of his imprisoner.

The figure cleared their throat. "We were inside the city at the time, just in a segment we'd made sure wouldn't get bombed. In other words, a corner. The dreadwings were instructed to not bomb there. They're pretty intelligent for beasts, dragon. After we left, however, it was turned to rubble."

"As for your next few questions," they continued, "it wasn't too difficult. All you need is a shot to the leg to immobilise them and a quick whack to the head to knock them out. The dragons were a little too big to get our hands on, though, so most of them ended up being bombed in their sleep. I think I speak for everyone when I say I want more dragons like you. Such fine things, you are."

Roland, again, quivered. They weren't really thinking of him as an actual dragon, were they? More of a prize that was only going to end up making them more gems. Instead of pondering that further, however, he listened to what they had to say next.

"The Skavenger ships are amazing. We centred our flying ships around them, although we did take some... creative liberties. Those boats weren't all that aerodynamic, but the technology to keep them afloat was way ahead of its time. So we used that and made it work and look better as a result."

Roland had to think about what they were saying for a second. Back in the grove he'd incinerated, the opponents he'd fought and almost died to then didn't seem to be all that technologically advanced. They were still using swords and axes, after all. But some of the cloaked enemies here had guns on them, generally uncommon weapons, and from what this red entity was telling him, probably impressive airships too. Had they somehow received a sudden advance in their technology? He had no idea.

"And for your last question." They stopped for a moment. Roland halted his movement and gazed back at them, as did the ice dragoness pacing beside him. They seemed... depressed. Quickly, however, they lost that look of genuine emotion and took on a blank appearance. "I'm not permitted to answer that. Drevon would like to tell you instead."

Again, that name. That dragon fashioned out of steel. Who were they really? In fact, where was Roland exactly? He voiced those two questions to McRed Hood behind him.

"Wow, you have a lot of questions." They sighed. "Again, Drevon will tell you that. And you're at the shrine. The wishing shrine you were headed to."

Wait... The wishing shrine? But that wasn't possible! The last thing he would've expected to see at an area that apparently gave you whatever you truly desired was something as cruel as a prison. It couldn't be true...

"This is just another one of your... _jokes_ , right? We're not actually..."

"I'm afraid it's true, dragon." He waved his firearm out in front of him, sounding irritated, and started to walk forward once more. "Now get a move on. We're wasting enough time as is."

Roland quickly got moving again, but that realisation wouldn't stop spiralling around his mind. His trek across Tall Plains really had been for naught... In fact, he'd ended up worse than he could've ever dreamed. Forced to live a life of... He didn't want to think about it. He wasn't sure if he knew, either.

He could have hope, but that was only a vain fantasy slowly vanishing before his eyes. There was nothing left for him. This was it.

What a life he'd lived...


	21. Mindless Entertainment

Mindless Entertainment

Right in front Roland lay a sandy, closed off arena, stained with fresh blood; autonomously gyrating blades and mechanised spike pits formed a small circle around two Atlawa fighting to the death. This was probably the most staggering thing he'd laid his golden eyes on. He was gazing at the ensuing duel from a tall row of seats coiled around the rustic yellow ring like a serpent, positioned next to Ashlyn. She had the look of someone who was going to faint, despite the amount of murder she'd seen and been through in her life.

Directly behind them sat the red figure, pistol in hand. The way they looked seemed so... wrong. As if they were sadistically pleasured by this. He was disgusted by the way they were evidently feeling, but it at least wasn't as terrible as the way the crowd of cloaked adversaries around him were reacting. Screams and shouts went this way and that, cheering on the llamas far below. A few gunshots were fired off to calm the noisy audience, but it was only futile in the end. He tried his absolute best to block out the fiendish jubilation, but he ended up with a terrible migraine regardless.

Every now and then, he received a strange glance (at least, he thought they were glancing at him) from someone within the crowd. He didn't blame the suspicion surrounding him or Ashlyn. They did, after all, stand out amongst the green thugs.

Roland winced when he saw the crude spear of the stronger Atlawa penetrate the gut of the other. And then the clear winner started dragging the loser across the ground, deciding to next throw him into the spinning blades. He shut his eyes then. The crowd went completely silent. He was thankful for the decrease in volume, but it was, unluckily, only momentary. He cringed internally when he heard tortured wails and cries echoing across the arena.

This was sickening. How was anyone delighted to watch this? Roland couldn't begin to fathom the idea of enjoying this slaughter fest. He didn't want to think about it. He wasn't going to open his eyes to the brutality in front of him.

"Never have I seen a contender do that to one of his own," the red entity spoke up. "Normally, they'd make it quick, but this time... I can't describe it."

"You're one of the people that built this place," Ashlyn answered angrily. "Were you not expecting that to happen when you put spinning blades in your arena?"

The figure shuffled around behind Roland. "I guess you're right, dragoness. Maybe we should lay off the swords."

"Maybe you should lay off the arena altogether," she suggested, bitterness edging her tone. "Aren't you slave traders or something? Why kill people when you can sell them off for profit?"

"Because nobody wants Atlawa, dragoness. Honestly, other than the minute amount of power those druids have, they're pretty useless. We only use them for work and amusement. Dragons, on the other hand, have _many_ uses. So we probably wouldn't put them in a death match. Others pay well for dragons. Not like we need the money right now, though."

Roland inwardly trembled. Each time they spoke of selling him, or just trading off others in general, made him feel scared. Scared of what was to come in the future. Frightened of what others were going to do to him... He didn't want a grublin to lay their dirty mitts on his scales.

"You can open your eyes now, dragon," they told him. "It is a little messy, though."

Hesitantly, Roland did as he was told. They were quite right when they said the arena was messy. At least he didn't have to watch an Atlawa be butchered in front of him. There was almost nothing left of the poor thing.

At once, the thunderous cheering picked up again. From his position, Roland was able to get a good look at the successful Atlawa, and he definitely seemed like he was in tears. Really, seeing that only furthered his point about just how dreadful this arena was. How could you be screaming praise at someone in a moment like this?

The traps slowly ground to a halt then. Hooded people entered the ring from a tremendous door opposite Roland's location, just below the huge ring of seats, and got the llama onto his quivery hooves, quickly exiting the arena with him. He had no clue where they were going with him, but he assumed it was back to the cell block.

Thinking that got him pondering further. Just how big was the entire area? This coliseum was huge, so there had to be more to the structure he was in... Maybe there was an exit somewhere.

No, there wasn't any use in worrying about escaping the clutches of his robed foes. He couldn't. There was no way out. There were too many of these people to even think about making a getaway, anyhow.

"We're going back now," his red adversary stated, getting up from their seat. "You've had your fill."

Roland did as instructed. He only gained more suspicious glances from the immense crowd as he stood. He even thought he saw someone grumpily sneer at him, but it was difficult to tell what emotions they were displaying under the hood... Roland wasn't certain if there was something underneath the cloak; he could only see darkness through the hole their face was supposed to be in. It made them look like disembodied spirits.

Following the figure in red, they walked around the rows of seats, moved up a wide staircase, and through the arena's leftmost door. Because he was now behind them, Roland thought of sprinting off, or even striking them down while they didn't have their gaze upon him, but he quickly realised how idiotic that would've been if he had done so. He'd probably be fired upon by their colleagues and escorted to this so called 'Chamber of Fun' if the gunshots didn't kill him. And despite the fact they weren't paying attention, he was sure this particular enemy would still notice him move out of their sight.

"So, what do you think?" they inquired, an almost devious tone to their voice. "I trust it was to your liking?"

"To our liking?" Ashlyn narrowed her eyes into an incensed glare. "Really? How do you find _that_ entertaining, you rat?"

The red figure chuckled at her contumelious remark. "It's not hard, really. When it's the only kind of entertainment you've got, you get used to seeing it. That fight was an exception, though..." They paused for a moment before taking a quick glance at her. "And never insult me, dragoness, or I'll make sure I'm the one ripping those horns out of your skull and not one of those low-grade ruffians."

Ashlyn did open her muzzle to respond, but she must've realised they weren't lying when she hastily shut it again. Roland sighed; he knew his own horns would be yanked out of his head sooner or later. He was surprised they hadn't been hacked off yet, actually. As harrowing as it was, dragon... parts apparently sold for a lot, according to his enemies. Why they weren't trying to profit off of him now was peculiar.

"If you want to sell us," he began, "then why haven't you already? Don't you want the money?"

"Because, dragon." They started to move once more. Roland followed closely behind them, a frown on his face. "There's so much more we can do with you yet. And plus, we're sitting on a gold mine right now. We're not desperate for gems. In fact, money has hardly been a necessity for us at all. Selling you is an afterthought."

That didn't sound great. For himself or Ashlyn, at least. He ended up questioning McRed Hood about this gold mine.

"It's not actually a _gold_ mine," they explained. "But we are sitting on a kofalt mine. A huge one at that. It's quite the game changer when it comes to technology. It's durable, malleable, doesn't wear and it conducts crystal power. It's also explosive!"

"Crystal power?" He had no clue what to think of that. What could that possibly entail...

"Yes, crystal power. By melting spirit gems, you can create power, and then you can run it through kofalt wires. Better than electric dragons, mind you. It's fascinating stuff. I'm surprised you haven't heard of it... Wait, you come from Avalar, don't you?"

Roland wasn't sure how much good revealing his previous home town would do, but what did he have to lose now? "I... Yes, I come from Avalar."

Ashlyn cast her eyes towards him and glared. He had a feeling his quick decision wasn't an intelligent one.

"That explains why you're a little out of the loop," they said. "The bottom side of the main continent is cut off from the rest by the Burned Lands. Around forty years after the Dark Master, the Burned Lands actually spread across the land, separating the cities completely just four years later. Nobody knows why it happened and nobody could get rid of it. It's impossible to get through and there's nothing anybody can do about it."

Roland had heard of the Burned Lands and how it had crossed the continent in history tomes before. He'd seen maps of the Dragon Realms. But now that he was pondering it, every map he'd seen was kind of ancient... This was all starting to make so much sense.

"The oceans to get around all that are filled with huge serpents," they continued, turning a left corner in the lengthy passage they were now treading down. "So that's not an option. And the skies there are impossible to get through without proper cloaking devices, what with all the fire wyrms. Hiding a cargo ship is entirely impossible, as well... It's all just a run of bad luck, if you ask me."

The amount of questions they were answering for him was astounding. Why were they so eager to reply to whatever thought he may have on his mind? In fact, he'd noticed they spoke a lot. Were they trying to show some form of kindness?

No, that couldn't be it. They'd just threatened Ashlyn. There had to be a reason for their insistence... This was all so much to take in.

"So, Avalar is kind of ancient when compared to cities like Port Cobalt and Dawnfront up north. Even worse, there's no kofalt at all in Avalar's small section of the world. Without that, they're not going to improve at all. Nobody from the other continents are willing to come across with supplies, either, because each and every ship they've brought has either been shot down by a sea serpent, or swallowed by a fire wyrm... So it gets neglected. Our continent's a dangerous place."

The number of questions they had an answer to was astonishing, yes, but the sheer amount of inquires they'd now raised was more so. What was this kofalt substance? He hadn't heard of it in any text he'd studied. Cloaking devices and cargo ships? What about fire wyrms? Where were Port Cobalt and Dawnfront, besides north? He'd never seen them on a chart before. Instead of being able to voice any of his questions, however, Ashlyn seemed to have one of her own.

"If nobody is able to get across the world," she spoke up, breaking her short silence, "then how will you get us to the Forbidden Mountains?"

He was surprised he hadn't thought of that. With a wall of what was basically certain death ahead of them, how did Roland's cloaked foes expect to cross it? They could soar around the globe and make it to the other side, but for a few quick gems? That didn't seem like a good use of time.

"I'm glad you asked." They gazed back at her. "With the dreadwings, it's actually possible, surprisingly. The fire wyrms ignore them. They probably hate the taste of them. I've heard from someone it's like eating rotten flesh."

So there was a way over the wall of searing magma... Using the enemy, of course. Absolutely perfect. Exactly what he needed to hear right now.

As their huge conversation started to die down, Roland took to peering around. He was starting to realise just how unnaturally immense these hallways were. Why they were so large was quite strange. How did the scarlet hoodlum even know their way around this massive complex? Roland was certain he would lose his mind trying to walk these halls. It was impractical.

He looked to the stone walls beside him. Unlike the arena, they were bland; he exhaled deeply. Boredom started to settle in. Whilst attempting to find something to do, he looked at the walls once more and found a little enjoyment in staring at the shadows of everyone flickering against the wall's rough surface. The way they were projected was eerie, like large, deformed beasts shambling along with one another. It did provide him with a little amusement, though.

"Almost there now," his imprisoner mentioned. That only meant his time to be free of his cell was coming to a swift close. Roland felt as if he should've darted off when he had the chance, effectively escaping the clutches of his foes. He wasn't even being led around by a chain, only casually walked back to where he was supposed to go. That firearm by their hip, however, was enough of a deterrent. If this figure could somehow shoot Ashlyn's ice shards out of the air, he didn't want to find out how accurate they were when it came to firing off at dragons.

And then they were back at their cell after having passed the others. Roland gazed at it disdainfully, not desiring to enter once more, but after an encouraging push from his crimson incarcerator, he heard the door slam shut behind him.

"Don't worry now, dragons." They locked the door with the set of keys they had on them. "If you stick to the rules, your quality of life here will improve. See, we've already arranged a bed for you two."

It was true. They had given them a bed. A single dull, white bed. Great. Roland had already decided he would be sleeping on the floor tonight. What a sick prank...

"And don't think about trying to escape again," they said. "I'm leaving the sensor on, so there'll be an alarm if you try to get out. I'll see to you two tomorrow."

That was that. McRed Hood flicked a switch on the wall outside of his cell and paced off, leaving himself and Ashlyn alone. He looked down at the floor for a few moments. It was hopeless now.

He peered at the ice dragoness. She seemed fine. Why? Virtually everything was lost now, and she was okay? He sighed.

"Are you alright, Ash?" he asked. Ashlyn frowned at him.

"Um, yeah," she answered. "I'm okay. Why, Roland?"

"Just asking." He rubbed at his cranium. "I... I don't know, Ashlyn. I just have a feeling we won't be escaping this place... I have no idea what to do."

"Hey, look." She offered him a smile. "Life's hard. It has been on both of us. But I know we'll pull through in the end, just like we always have. Try to have a little hope, Roland. You never know what might happen next."

"But that's the thing, Ashlyn." He exhaled before walked over to the single bed, placing his clawless paw atop it. It was surprisingly soft. "I don't want to know what happens next. It's hard to have hope in our situation. And... I just can't be sure about us actually 'pulling through', you know? We're only going to end up being-"

"Stop that," she intervened, losing the reassuring smile. "We will get out of this. You can be sure of it."

"And what makes you feel so sure?" Roland questioned her. The hopelessness looming in the air seemed to strike at Ashlyn for a moment; she closed her mouth up, clearly uncertain of how to respond to his inquiry. "There isn't a way out of here, Ash. We can't even get out of the door without tripping an alarm... Do you have a plan or something?"

"Roland, look... I..." She directed her eyes to the floor for a second. "It sounds stupid. It really does. But have a little faith. I know we'll come out okay... Where's the hopeful, happy dragon I know? Despite the situation, you always seem to be completely fine, but when faced with this, you just give up? What gives, Roland?"

"What gives?" he repeated, unable to meet her eyes. He went and sat up against the wall near the bed, folding his paws. "You're right, Ashlyn. It does sound stupid. I just... I can't look forward. How do we even get out of here? There's no way... I don't care anymore."

"Well, I'm not going to idly sit by and wait for our _impending doom_ , Roland," she stated, adopting a slightly angrier look. "You can sit and brood in the corner all you want, but I'm actually going to try. Can't you do the same? I remember a time when you were optimistic, but that seems to have changed. What happened?"

"And I remember a time when all you did was mope," he remarked, looking up slightly. She seemed taken aback. "You walked around like a wraith all the time. But I didn't call you out for it. Can you not be hypocritical?"

"You..." She pointed at him with a toe, her face contorting into something much more threatening. "Why would you even bring that up? Don't you remember what I've been through? At least you weren't chained to a wall and beaten every night."

"Oh, and here comes the pity party. I guess I'll join in." Roland was getting rather agitated by this. There was no way she was going to convince him at all. "I spent weeks, sometimes months, living on nothing but scraps because I couldn't get the money. I starved almost everyday. I lived in a sewer pipe. I had to dodge the guards all the time. And you know what? I was beaten too! Seth hated my guts. So don't just say your life's been tough."

"Do you know what _torture_ feels like, Roland?" she growled. He didn't answer her. "It feels like having your scales peeled off of your body one by one. Like having hot steel pressed up against your stomach. Like having thousands of volts move through you at the same time. And I had to deal with that every single day of my life, Roland! Even after submitting to Aurus!"

That... sounded dreadful. Roland couldn't come up with a retort to her words. He wasn't able to relate to that at all. And now he was regretting yelling at her. Again... Why was he being so stupid all of a sudden!? Roland wanted to slap himself for treating her the way he did.

"You know, I've been refusing to bring all that up," she continued, taking a deep breath and moving a few steps closer to him. "I didn't think you wanted to hear about it. But that's what I've had to go through for the past few years. I still have the scar from that steel on my stomach..."

Roland curiously looked at her pale grey underbelly and was quite startled to see that she had a marking there, just below her ribcage. He'd never seen it before, but it was small. Spotting it without trying to search for it would've proved difficult.

"I-I'm sorry for yelling, Roland..." She ran a paw through the blue frills atop her head. "I just... I want you to be happy, like you usually are. I hate to see you like this. But can you please have at least a smidgen of hope? It would do us both some good."

Roland lifted himself up and directed his gaze to the stone bricks beneath his paws. He let out a sigh. "I... Ancestors, I'm a jerk."

"No, you're not a jerk," she exclaimed, a little shocked. "Far from it. You just... need to look forward to the future. You told me that once, you know? You've completely changed how I look at life, Roland."

That he did. If anything, he was the one being the hypocrite now. He'd made sure Ashlyn heeded his words, but he hadn't taken them into account himself. Roland lifted his eyes a moment later.

"Yeah." He was able to manage a slight smile. "Alright. I'll try."

Ashlyn softly tapped his side with her the flat of her blade. "Good dragon. Now how about we get some sleep. We haven't been awake for long, but I'm already feeling a bit exhausted..."

"You can take the bed." He winked. "I'll sleep on the floor."

Ashlyn walked over to the wall beside him, slouched against the stone bricks, and narrowed her eyes. "You don't always have to be like that. I'll sleep right here. You take it."

"No." Roland sat back down again, leaning against the wall next to her. "I insist."

"Then I guess I'll be sleeping on the floor next to you," she giggled. Roland put his face in his paws. He wanted her to feel comfortable... It wasn't like he didn't want her by his side, though. Heck, they'd slept together before and neither of them had been at all awkward about it.

Still, he was surprised by how quickly they could go from shouting angrily at each other to being friends once more. Maybe he just needed to stop being an insensitive jerk. Yeah, that was probably it... He had better things to put his mind on, though.

He rolled his eyes and finally replied with a drawn out, " _Fine_..."

Ashlyn laughed at him. Roland looked up at the bed longingly. Oh, how he desired to snuggle up inside of it now that she wasn't taking the opportunity he'd given her. But that would be impolite. Instead, he tore the blankets off and wrapped them both up inside of it. Ashlyn gave him a funny look.

"Great idea, Roly. I was feeling quite cold."

Roland grinned, deciding to play along. "Yeah, I know. It is a little chilly in here. I mean, it's not like you're an ice dragon or anything."

She fired off an ice spike for good measure; it shattered against the wall. "Nope. Not at all. I'm not sure, but I feel like that was electricity."

"Wow, and I thought you were firing off an earth blast. Silly me."

She chuckled. "Let's check again, shall we?"

After drawing her head back for a second, a noisy blast of concentrated ice blast forth out of her muzzle, echoing across the entire cellblock. Once more, her golden ring glowed. Roland furrowed his scaly brow.

"Yep," she grinned. "Definitely a wind dragon."

Roland grinned at her behaviour, but he was confused again by her ring. He opened his maw to ask her about it, but somebody beat him to the punch.

"Will you whelps shut up!? We're all tryin' to sleep here!"

He immediately bounced back in fright, only hitting the wall behind him as a result. Ashlyn seemed a little surprised, but definitely not as shocked as he was. As a matter of fact, she started laughing hysterically at the deep tone a few seconds later.

"Oh, if I have to face you in the arena, I'll be sure to tear you limb from limb!"

Ashlyn's laughter only continued and Roland soon had to join her after quickly making sure they weren't in any immediate danger. Did this prisoner seriously think he could defeat her in battle? That was hardly a fair fight. An angry Ashlyn against practically any sentient race wasn't particularly equitable if each side was on even terms.

"Bah! You dragons think you're real funny, don't ya? By the Ancestors, shut it!"

"Oh, how about you shut _your_ trap, Evans!" a different voice hollered. "You're louder than the pair of them!"

"I'll wipe the floor with you next, nugget!"

"By the gods, Evans. Let them have their fun! They're only children, you lumbering oaf!"

Roland couldn't help but bury his head in the soft white blanket keeping him warm and snicker. Unfortunately, the screaming match seemed to halt there. He wanted to hear more about this Evans and... a nugget, apparently.

Minutes of waiting later and everything had settled. The repose now was calming, but at the same time, a little unnerving. Another lengthy breath slipped out of his muzzle.

He felt something hastily come down on his side, forcing him to the left slightly. He was alarmed for a split second and almost leaped to his paws in surprise, but after realising it was only Ashlyn's form, he relaxed. She must've fallen asleep. He smiled abashedly to himself, yet he ended up leaning into her himself, if only to get off his spined back.

Roland knew he could fall to sleep knowing he could have at least a little faith. Especially in Ashlyn... He was reminded again of what the yellowy dragoness, Nara, had told him through writing.

 _'Put your faith in her...'_

He wrapped a wing around her. He was sure she wouldn't mind. It definitely made him feel a little more snug (doing it on the bed would've been very strange, however). And right now, he wanted every last bit of warmth. After the events of today, he hadn't really been able to pay much attention to it. But the encroaching coldness of outside was really starting to work its way inside now.

However, the icy temperatures of winter weren't all that much of a problem to him. It wasn't something he needed to worry about. His primary goal was getting out of this cell. And with Ashlyn, he was sure that was possible now. They only had to find an opportunity and take it, as meagre in number as those were going to be...

Ashlyn was correct, though. He needed to have hope... It was what they were relying on, anyhow.

He knew it was going to be a long, arduous process. But he also knew they would succeed in the end, just like they always had.


	22. A Friendly Clash

A Friendly Clash

"Rise and shine, you pair."

Roland groaned tiredly, awakening from his slumber. Who could that possibly be? As his eyes slowly worked their way open, he saw a figure standing at the cell bars, chains and links in their left hand. He had to rub the sleep out of his eyes before he realised what was happening; he didn't want those iron bonds around his neck again! He tried to back up, unwrapping himself from the bedsheet and Ashlyn, only to run into the rough wall behind him.

His swift movements jolted Ashlyn out of her sleep. She frantically looked around, clearly attempting to find what he was so startled by. He pointed her in the right direction and when she did see them, she let out an almost relieved sigh. He furrowed his brow, concerned by her strange reaction. She wasn't worried?

"We don't have time for games, you two," the figure stated. Roland noticed they weren't wearing a cloak of red, but of green. They were well built, nearly bulky, had a pistol slung at their hip and their tone of voice was deep; a frightening baritone, giving him the impression that this robed entity was male. He still couldn't be certain, however, what with the lack of an actual face. "Get over here. Now."

Remembering how pointless resistance was, he lifted himself from the stone brick floor, exhaled, and sluggishly paced over to his adversary. Ashlyn followed him, adopting a slightly more threatening look. Deep down, he knew she was only forcing the expression. This figure obviously wouldn't be frightened by an angry glare.

"What's all this about?" Ashlyn inquired. "Where's the red guy?"

"Warren is busy in his office," they responded. Roland found that they'd just revealed the name and gender of their crimson imprisoner. How observant... So perhaps there was something under the hood. It wasn't like it would be too helpful in the end, though. "You two were both pulled out of the bucket and I was sent to get you both. They're all waiting for you down there."

Roland angled his head, befuddled. "The bucket? And... down where exactly?

"They drew you two for the arena. That's where we're going."

Wait, the arena? What? He was... participating? Sure, somebody had screamed about destroying them in that ghastly area, but he hadn't expected for it to actually happen... Had they changed their minds about not killing him? Maybe... Maybe he wasn't worth the time it would take to bring him to the Forbidden Mountains.

"No..." Roland started to back away from them. He couldn't go along with this. "No, I am _not_ going there!"

"Not my choice." They shrugged. "Now hurry up. I've got kofalt to mine today."

Roland wasn't going to listen to them at all. He could just picture spikes puncturing every ligament attached to his body, blades shredding through scale and bone as if he was made of warm butter. His insides churned at the horrifying thoughts. And if he was being sent there with Ashlyn... Did that mean he was supposed to put an end to her life? He couldn't possibly do that!

He glanced over at Ashlyn and she had that same look of indescribable horror etched all over her face, probably the same thoughts spiralling through her mind. But she seemed more... accepting of it. Like she'd known what to anticipate this whole time. Last night – at least, he thought it was yesterday – she'd only tried to make him happier in what was their final moments, hadn't she? How did he not see through that obvious façade?

Well, the main thing was that she'd tried...

"If you don't get a move on, I'm going to have to force you." The green figure placed their other gloved hand against the holstered firearm, threatening him and Ashlyn. Roland wasn't sure if he'd rather get himself fired upon here, or if he wanted to meet his demise in the arena. The former option seemed like it was approaching more rapidly, however.

"Let's just go, Roland," Ashlyn spoke up, giving him a gentle smile. Her mood had changed quickly. "We... We shouldn't keep the Ancestors waiting for us."

He exhaled shakily. If getting sent to the arena together meant one of them would die, he would instead make sure they did it together. Ashlyn was correct, as well. If the legends of the Ancestors were true – he believed they were, obviously – he'd much rather the latter; meeting his end in battle was considered brave in old dragon lore and would grant him entrance into the stars above.

Those thoughts were still terrifying, however. His last desire was to be killed... Unfortunately, that seemed like the only desire that would be met at this forsaken shrine.

"Yeah," he finally responded. "Let's get going."

"Good." The figure unlocked the door. "I'm surprised Warren doesn't have you chained up already. He asked me to bring drainers. Not sure why he hasn't done that himself.

While Ashlyn could end this entity's life right now with a quick blast of her elemental powers, doing so wouldn't yield many results. They would never be able to find a way out of this fortress. This place was massive; escaping would be very far from what one would call a doddle. It would only worsen their living conditions, anyway, if they did both happen to come out of the arena alive.

"I'm going to put these on you." The figure opened a large metallic link, akin to the one used on the both of them before. The only difference was the strange red gemstone embedded inside of it. "I'll start with you, red dragon."

Roland didn't bother disobeying their orders. There was no point. He lowered his head and allowed the chain to be attached to his neck. It was tight, but it felt the same for the most part... What was this about 'drainers'?

"That's odd," the figure said, sounding quite confounded. "I could've sworn I brought the drainers... No matter. You next, dragoness."

Much like him, Ashlyn didn't retaliate. She craned her neck and let them attach the iron bonds to her. But dissimilar to his lack of feelings, a shriek slipped from her muzzle. She fell onto her side and Roland was immediately bent over her, wide-eyed.

"Ashlyn!?" He had no idea what to do. One moment she was standing there, the next she was on the ground, clutching her neck in pain. He looked to the figure hovering over them both, their expression as blank as always. "What have you _done_ to her!?"

"As I said, I used a drainer," they explained emotionlessly. "They were created by our lord, Drevon. They get rid of dragon powers; don't worry, she'll be as good as new when her pools restore themselves. If it didn't work on you, that obviously means you have no mana to drain."

"W-Why?" he questioned, fury rising in his tone. "Why the hell would you do that to her?"

"One, to stop her from literally stabbing me in the back. I do wish they cut off her tail blade, though..." They shrugged, wrapping the chains connecting himself and Ashlyn around their wrist. "Two, to stop you both from running off. Three, to make things more exciting for the crowd today."

He sighed. Well, at the very least, she would be alright... in the long run. Ashlyn wouldn't be needing her ice powers if they were going to be doing what Roland thought, at any rate. He peered down at her once more and she looked to be alright after that small bout of agony, although now panting like a death hound on a summer's day. He gave her an apologetic gaze, even if he wasn't the one at fault, and offered her his paw. She took it and got to her feet, but not before he took into account how quivery her forelegs were.

"Are you okay, Ash?" he asked, concerned about her welfare. She nodded in response.

"Y-Yeah... Just fine, Roly."

Hearing that nickname usually curled his muzzle into a smile, but right now it only felt like a vain attempt to cover up how much she was hurting. He sighed and let go of her trembling paw carefully, making sure she wouldn't collapse once more. Even if her legs did buckle a few times, the side effects of that iron shackle seemed to be wearing off quickly.

"Let's go," the cloaked figure said shortly. With that, they got a move on towards the arena.

Roland couldn't help but feel hopeless in this situation. If nothing else killed him, it would have to be this. These enemies were going to be certain either him or Ashlyn died today. And when that did happen, he would join her in death, and probably vice versa. They'd both be there until the end... That was what friends were for, right? Always together; always standing adamantly beside each other. Those thoughts were enough to make the predicament just a little more pleasant.

"They're taking the kids to the arena now?" a voice spoke up. Roland recognised it from yesterday; the one who'd been called a nugget. He glanced over to his right and saw an Atlawa through steel bars, grimy and dressed in rags. "Messed up, if you ask me."

The foe leading him along didn't pay them any mind; they only continued pacing onward. Roland offered the llama a tiny smile and he managed to get a slight grin from the llama in return.

"Not sure how you can be happy, kid," he told him. "But good luck out there. You'll need it."

Roland couldn't help but feel a little happier after that small interaction. Unfortunately, he didn't get to see Evans, as grumpy as he seemed, but it sure would've felt nice to mock him.

Roland felt something pull at his chain then. After realising he was falling behind, he got a move on.

"You pair are quiet, aren't you?" The foe briefly glanced back at them.

"What is there to talk about?" Ashlyn lifted a single brow. Roland couldn't agree more. When he knew exactly what was approaching, it was difficult to speak... Well, perhaps he could start a discussion. There was one subject that kept coming to mind; he'd asked about it what felt like eons ago, but he desired a little more information on the matter.

"Hey, Ash?" She turned her gaze to him to signify she was listening. "Can you tell me a bit more about your ring? You said it makes you stronger or something..."

"Yeah, it does make me stronger," she responded, "through an enchantment. You've probably noticed it glows whenever I use my element; it's brighter when I concentrate more. That's about it, though, other than... being a reminder of my mother."

Ashlyn's mum... Roland hadn't learnt much about her, other than her exciting occupation. Treating others with massages, of all things, was still very unusual to him. He wondered where she was today, or if she was... even alive.

"When was the last time you saw her?" he asked, feeling as if he was getting into a touchy subject. She seemed to wince a little at the question, but she did end up replying.

"I... don't really know, Roland. After Aurus, I never saw her or my father again. As loving as she was, I don't think she even tried to look for me. She... might be dead."

That sounded truly terrible. At least Roland knew his parents were at peace. Ashlyn had no idea what to make of any of this. He tried to be as comforting as he could, gently draping his wing across her back. She smiled a little, choosing now to walk a little closer to him.

That ring had to be important to her. It was a strength enhancer, but it was also a memento to her forever lost family. The last piece of her mother she still had. And Roland remembered he was once going take the ring; steal those precious memories away from her. He was so glad he hadn't done that. Their relationship probably would've turned out much differently than it had if he'd stolen the ring from her.

"We'll be there soon," the robed enemy cut in. Roland hadn't noticed they were turning bends and advancing towards their deathly destination for a little while now, but the cacophonous cheering he could now hear echoing from the arena in the next room was a reminder his death was imminent. He wouldn't be entering the door opening up to the huge circle of seats this time. He wasn't the one watching.

No, he was walking towards the grand door, as tall as four adult dragons sat on top of each other. Their entrance would be... quite the spectacle. He could imagine an army of robed figures wound around the stadium as if they were long, thick ropes, their dastardly shouts trying to light a fire under him. Little did they know how disappointed they were going to be when they saw what he had in mind. They'd never see it coming.

This walk was turning out to be even more boring than the last. At least the arena would provide something resembling excitement; these rough, grey corridors were just as stale as ever. Allowing his eyes to wander around only brought him one unusually long corridor, stretching off into other hallways, a hanging bulb every few metres or so. There was no visual pop. Just a bland, almost empty passage.

"Why are these hallways so long?" Ashlyn asked, turning her head to the cloaked being. "This architecture seems off..."

"Our lord, Drevon, built this like a maze so nobody could escape," they answered. "Only we know the way around. It's been drilled into our skulls."

A maze... Despite how Ashlyn had put it, that seemed like an intelligent idea. Even if the cells were already inescapable, it was a good fail-safe if the sensors ended up breaking. It only served to make getting out of the complex _more_ impossible. But there had to be a way. There was always a way out. Too bad he wouldn't ever find it now.

"If we take a left here, we'll be there in a minute." As they said so, he did just that. Everything suddenly expanded into one enormous room to host the door at the back. The stone here was polished, smooth, and in the clear light from above, he could spot his own reflection gazing warily back at him. Pristine statues of a menacing dragon, probably Drevon, lined the spacious area on both sides of him, forming a pathway leading straight to the entrance. And the door beyond was almost beautiful; the hard mahogany meshed with the greys of the stone walls nicely, adding just that little extra flair. If anything, Drevon knew how to design and construct an astounding entrance.

"A little grand for something so awful, I think," Ashlyn said, a humourless laugh slipping out of her maw. Roland nodded in agreement. This space looked like something out of a lord's fortress, but beyond that only lied a dreadful arena.

At the far end of the capacious room stood two foes dressed in forest green cloaks and waiting beside large mechanisms. They were large and heavy-duty, a gorgeous combination of gears and blue ore connected to a handle. These specific enemies were probably awaiting his arrival. Even without a visible face, they seemed eager to get out there and gaze upon what they thought would be an epic battle to the death. Again, they definitely wouldn't be able to foresee the startling truth.

"Finally here!" the one on Roland's left called out. Their tone was vile and venomous, like a petty scoundrel. "We've been waiting for so _long_!"

"Shut up, you," the other said. This one's voice was deeper, but almost feminine in tone. Still, Roland had no idea what to think of them. He was actually starting to get sick of thinking of them as just... 'they'. It felt so strange to call them that. Alas, he had no clue who they were. Or what they were.

"Crowd's been waiting a good while." The leftmost rogue grabbed the handle adjacent to them. "I hope you two are able to entertain us."

"Warren wanted to wish you both good luck, seeing as he's not going to be here to watch you today." The figure opposite the scoundrel grabbed their shaft. "He holds you both very near and dear to his heart, apparently."

Roland wanted to scoff. Yeah, right. What a joke. If Warren was willing to let one of them die out there, that statement really didn't hold much merit. He sighed before the levers on either side of him were pushed down, and at once, the huge door creaked opened, revealing a sandy arena soaked in the blood of innocents.

The cheering only picked up; he could barely hear the restraints on his neck click and fall to the ground. The burly figure wished them a quiet but grim farewell before pacing off. Roland didn't look back. There was no way back; it was pointless. Everything ended here...

And the door shut behind him.

"My esteemed colleagues," what sounded like a presenter began. Their voice rose above every cry and shout; he had no clue in what direction the noise was emanating from – it seemed to come from everywhere at once – and how they were projecting their voice so noisily. There hadn't been such a formal introduction for the Atlawan combatants yesterday, either, so why introduce them? Unless he was _special_ in their eyes. "May I present to you... Two _dragons_!"

Roland only walked further towards the centre with Ashlyn, receiving an enormous round of applause from the audience. There must've been thousands in there... How large were Drevon's armies, exactly?

"Found in the jungles around Tall Plains, much like our llama friends, these two make quite the team," they stated. He could admit that was true; Roland knew they made great partners. "The dragoness on the right beat down dozens of our own all by herself! And this dragon took what should've been a fatal gunshot and walked it off as if it was nothing! I think we're all quite excited to see where this battle takes us! Just how invincible are this pair?"

As nice as it seemed, they could skip the formalities for all he cared. It wasn't exactly necessary. And the shouting was so irritating; it got worse as he reached the middle of the arena, where he flopped onto his haunches.

"You, red dragon," the voice said. Roland perked his head up at being addressed. "Why don't you tell us about yourself?"

The crowd went silent almost immediately, except for a strange buzzing he could hear behind him. He spun around to find a curious little object hovering towards him. It was small and metallic, blue wiring protruding from its spherical shell. Somehow, it floated – he had not the foggiest clue how. It was without any kind of wings and being suspended in the air like that would've been impossible with them, anyway. It probably had to do with this kofalt substance. Something about it was magical.

There was quite the awkward silence amongst the spectators. What, were they expecting him to say something? He didn't know what to utter, and if he actually did, he probably wouldn't let them hear it.

"Oh, so he's a quiet type," the commentator said, sounding a little vexed by his reluctance. "It's not like we haven't seen any of those before. Does the dragoness have anything to say?"

Again, more quietness. He couldn't help grinning at the silence. At least as he went down, it would be annoying his enemies. That would have to be hilarious.

"Alright! Let's get this started!" This got the audience yelling out again. Roland couldn't understand how anybody could possibly be so loud and obnoxiously otiose, even if this was a huge audience. It was absolutely ridiculous. "Our competitors will be squaring off..."

And there it was. The few words he was expecting. He wasn't going to just slay Ashlyn and he didn't think she would be so keen on killing him, either. He knew what he would do, though. He'd go out being as stupidly irritating as possible! He'd play games with Ashlyn in the ring! He only had to tell her his devious plans and...

"...against a blundertail!"

Wait... A blundertail? They weren't facing each other? That... That was awesome! Maybe they could both still get out of this alive together! But what was a blundertail...?

Still, he turned his head to Ashlyn, the biggest grin he'd ever seen cracking her muzzle. She had the exact same thoughts as him, clearly. This was truly amazing. If they could take out whatever this thing was, they might just survive this whole ordeal!

"Inspired by the Skavengers, countless hours of genetic manipulation were poured into creating these beasts!" they shouted. Genetic manipulation? By the Ancestors above, what was that? "It's got pincers! It's got a cannon! Everybody welcome... the blundertail!"

And as soon as the voice was finished introducing their opponent, the ground directly beneath Roland started to rumble and collapse underneath his paws. Ashlyn managed to get away, but he only stumbled over his footing in a futile attempt to escape the sudden cave in. Before he could even think about leaping to his paws, a creature burst out of the ground and grabbed his neck in a strangling grip.

Roland tried to struggle out of its sharp grip, unable to get a proper look at his opponent. He desperately tried to pull what he thought were its arms away from his neck, but he couldn't muster the strength. Not a single particle of air was able to seep into his oxygen-starved lungs.

"Roland!" Ashlyn's voice called out. She would rescue him! At least, she would've tried to. Before she could do anything to stop the strangulation herself, he felt the monster send him careening through the air. He attempted to halt himself, but the impact from the ground came too fast. Whatever wind was left in his lungs was instantly knocked out of him as he tumbled across the ground. The world darkened around him for a moment.

An explosion rocked him from his unconscious state. He rolled onto his paws and tried to find the source of the frightening noise; his eyes immediately met the sight of a giant scorpion-like beetle. It had a massive pair of pincers, each as big as him, and a long tail that curled upwards. A strangely natural cannon sat atop its tail instead of a venomous barb. It had a pair of white, menacing eyes that seemed to stare deep into his very soul, an intent to kill shining inside of them. Right now, Ashlyn was trying to dart around the blundertail's fireballs, the ground being turned to molten sludge around her. She looked like she was in desperate need of assistance.

It was then he realised how much he was hurting. His scaly neck throbbed – he could feel something damp slowly trickling down its sides – and his torso ached after heavily colliding with the sandy floor. For now, however, the pain was the least of his concerns. Rescuing Ashlyn was much a bigger priority to him than his own feelings at that moment.

Immediately, he charged off, realising the traps weren't actually running when he tripped on a deactivated blade. He wondered why that was. It didn't matter, however, as he got up. He hadn't a great plan, but as he neared the blundertail and his companion, he decided to improvise. The most original insult came to mind.

"You big... fat... scorpion _thing_!" he screamed at the top of his lungs. The blundertail's attention was diverted towards him, giving Ashlyn time to escape her adversary and the puddles of burning liquid surrounding her. "Pick on someone as dumb as you!"

The monstrous creature was quickly after him. Roland gulped down a ball of fear before he scurried off, trying to outrun it. If there was even a possibility of doing so, it was ever so faint – despite its thin legs, especially when compared to its hulking size, it sure could dash when it wanted to. He could feel it trying to snap at his tail. Regardless of his best efforts to escape the overly large scorpion, it decided to launch a blazing ball of ooze in front of him. Without the ability to halt himself in time, he skidded through the liquefied inferno, searing pain rushing up his legs.

Crying out at the agony only brought him more; he felt himself be struck once more across the cheek. Roland was tossed leftward like a ragdoll, his form hitting the floor once more. He didn't have the strength to get out another yell; nothing more than a whimper escaped his maw.

Fortunately for him, his turn to be battered was over for now. The aching in his face flared, the seething pain spread across his frame burned. He'd been wrong to think he'd ever stood a chance against this... this _thing_. It was unnaturally dangerous.

The cheering around him continued to flood his mind, but it was being quickly replaced by a deafening, distorted combination of disapproval and laughter. Ancestors forbid his futility in a fight... It was always Ashlyn who hauled them both to victory. He was never useful, only ever causing problems for her. Ancestors, why and how was he even her friend? She deserved better than a delicate little laughing stock.

"Roland!" she called out to him again. He could barely lift his head to show he was listening. "Come on! _Roland_! You- _AH_!"

To hear her scream out like that was frightening, but what could he do to help her? He was nothing. A joke. And those thoughts continued to spiral inside of his mind...

"R-Roland!" Ashlyn's voice told him she couldn't do anything to stop the blundertail. He couldn't tell what was happening to her. Managing a painful roll onto his side, he tried to peer over. Nothing came into focus, everything a blur of fluorescent yellows and reds. The radiant colours seemed to be drawing nearer to him.

"G-Get up, you stupid dragon!" Her angry tone was far less distant than it had been previously. Another noise then rose above her yells. Like that of a bomb. He wondered what it really was. " _Get up!_ "

Roland felt something grasp his shoulders. He was about to struggle, but this unknown force was much more powerful than him. It dragged his limp body across the golden surface he lay atop, another blast resounding inside of his mind as it did so. A further wave of intense burning bit at his scales.

Enraged booing broke out amidst the blurry audience around him. Roland didn't care how they were feeling about this battle. They didn't matter to him.

His eyes began to focus on the objects in front of him at that moment, the colours now not so vomit-inducing. He could see a smudge of blue underneath a streak of purple. Quickly, however, he realised that the smudge was actually Ashlyn, and the streak was the blundertail's huge form. It had its razor-edged pincers around her throat, slowly starting to choke her.

Roland held his breath. This thing... It was going to kill her, wasn't it? He was surprised it hadn't just snapped her in half already. But what was he supposed to do? He knew he was useless...

But did that really matter anymore? Her life was on the line! What was he doing laying on the floor? Why would he wait there for her passing? Roland had no clue, but he did know something else.

He was not going to let this battle be her last. It was time to stop being so selfish. And he was going to be certain he followed that principle for the rest of his years.

Silently clambering to his feet, he tried to ignore the pain coursing through his bones. She was the one who needed him now. Without another thought, he swiftly charged forward, the blundertail not getting a chance to even turn its head towards him.

He leaped up into the air, spread his wings for one moment and speedily came down on the oversized scorpion, horns-first. He felt something crack. It issued a screech, something he'd not heard from their opponent thus far, and was pushed back, losing its tight hold on Ashlyn's neck. Roland disregarded the migraine he was given from such a hard, clumsy strike, and helped the ice dragoness to her feet, happy he'd managed to rescue her.

"F-Finally decided to help?" she coughed out. Roland looked at her appearance and was appalled. Horrible burns snaked their way up her legs, exposing blackened flesh underneath her scales, and her body was badly bruised and bloodied overall. And that was all his fault; all because he was unwilling to listen to and assist her.

"I-I... Sorry, Ash," he stammered. "I-"

"We... We have bigger problems, alright? D-Don't worry about it."

He was reminded of the threat they were facing and turned his attention to it. The blundertail had since recovered from his horn dive and was now clumsily stumbling towards them, a limp in its step. Roland took note of the bluish liquid trickling down its face; it was amazing that his strike had actually proved fruitful. Either he really wasn't as physically weak as he'd thought, or it's skull was feeble. He hoped it was the former, but he was intelligent enough to know it was the latter.

"Okay, Roland." She looked at him for a moment. "If you can just distract it, I-I should be able to kill it..."

Seeing as Ashlyn was a former assassin, he didn't doubt her ability to slay their opponent. She'd proven herself countless times – she'd brought down dozens of their robed foes only a couple of days ago singlehandedly. But was she really up to it now? Being injured, she was sure to only worsen her condition if she tried, and without her element, how could she hope to bring this thing down? They were both at a total disadvantage now.

But so was the blundertail. It was clearly dazed by his attack. Perhaps they could use that to their advantage. And plus, when had Ashlyn not pulled through?

"W-When I say go, I want you to leap to the left," she told him. He nodded, lowering himself to prepare for a dive. "And then you'll run up to it and keep it busy. I'll do the rest; t-try not to get hit, Roly."

The damage Ashlyn had sustained was going to make this task more difficult than it already was. Even Roland, who had partaken in the battle only a little, had received burns and scrapes from this foul beast. But like always, they'd get it done. He was confident enough to know they would.

"Go!" Ashlyn yelled out before diving to her right. Roland hastily did as he was commanded and was surprised to see a sphere of red-hot sludge replace the sand he'd just been stood on. She'd predicted the attack... What a master.

Roland followed through with his part of the plan. He sprinted up to the scorpion and shouted as loudly as he could, "You giant, purple freak of nature! Over here!"

Again, the scorpion was a fool and decided to pursue him instead of the ice dragoness sneaking in from the right. Even on a charred leg, he had the agility to dodge a mighty swing of its pincers, now that he and Ashlyn weren't so unorganised. Another fireball arced towards him, but he managed to dart out of the way once more, sheer determination pulling him through.

Ashlyn had reached the monster by then, but she seemed to be waiting for an opportunity to put it down. Still, the blundertail focused every attack it had on him... Those fireballs were quite the annoyance.

And then he had a sudden stroke of genius. He hoped the ice dragoness would know what he was about to suggest.

He dashed to his left again and the creature kept its threatening eyes on him, spinning to face him once more. How utterly ridiculous; it may have been powerful, maybe as strong as a grown dragon, but its stupidity was a glaring problem. Even worse for the blundertail, Ashlyn seemed to have an idea of what he was attempting to do.

The blundertail looked about to fire off another clump of fiery muck, but it didn't get a chance. Ashlyn bounced upward, hovered for a moment and spun around in the air, her tail blade amputating its cannon. As great as it was for Roland, the sight was horrifying. Scalding liquid rushed out of its chamber for a second, the scorpion squealing at the obviously huge amount of pain. The flow stopped rather suddenly, however, but it was soon replaced by a heavy stream of blue fluid.

Roland watched on, his maw slightly agape. Ashlyn didn't give their bumbling opponent a chance to retaliate; she leaped atop it, and with a startling battle cry, jumped from its back and penetrated its already blood-soaked cranium with her tail blade. Nothing else escaped its mouth, other than bile and blood.

The blundertail fell to the ground; he was in total awe. Despite her heavily battered state, Ashlyn had ended the battle so quickly. How she'd done that was completely beyond him, but that hardly mattered now. She'd saved them both!

It was then that he could make out the loud cheers of the audience around him once more. They'd all but vanished while he was trying to focus on the ensuing fight. Even if they were his enemy, he was able to let a grin pull at his features.

Ashlyn stepped down from the corpse of their adversary, immediately proceeding to pace over to him. She gave him a clearly cheerful yet exhausted look. "G-Good job, Roland."

His smile only intensified. "You're the one who did all the work. I just called it ugly."

"Still the same dragon I know," she laughed, pulling him in for a quick hug. Even if they were both drenched in their own bodily fluids – they were both an absolutely putrid mess of blood and perspiration – he couldn't help returning the embrace. He knew he deserved at least a little happiness after that vicious duel.

"But seriously." She let go of him and shuffled on the spot for a moment, a smile still present on her face. "B-Big fat scorpion thing... That's the single greatest thing I've ever heard come out of your mouth."

He chuckled at her mocking remark. "Honestly, I think so too."

The two snickered at his expense for a while before calming down. He started to wonder about what would happen next. Was the voice going to make a response to their victory? His question was actually answered only a couple seconds later, but by a totally different tone to the one beforehand.

"Impressive, whelps. Very impressive, indeed."

There weren't many who called him a whelp. In fact, the last person he remembered doing so was Drevon. He almost didn't want to believe that it was the iron dragon, but the deep boom of their voice was a dead giveaway.

A deathlike hush fell across the crowd. For once, everything was still. One could easily make out a pin drop in the sudden serenity, even if it did end up making contact with the sandy floor. Roland looked to Ashlyn, then to the arena around him.

Something resembling wind swept across the ring – a low, unsettling gale. Roland watched as the sand in front of him started spinning, twisting into a miniature tornado that rapidly grew in size. He could make out features forming inside of it; jaws, a pair of wings and one slick, barbed tail blade to name a few.

Roland knew this was Drevon, somehow bending the winds to their favour. This was how Drevon got around? He knew teleportation was an impossibility, but this did get him stepping away from the sand tornado in fear. Was this his first real confrontation with them? The other times they'd appeared before him just seemed... a little off. Like they were only illusions. And he got that same feeling this time... He ended up shrugging it off.

"I probably should've expected more from you two," the metallic dragon stated. "You both did, after all, survive those explosions. And with a deer that speaks, no less. Darryl, was it?"

Something about the way they said those words seemed so odd. Drevon made it sound like they knew a great a deal more than they were letting on.

"Who are you?" Ashlyn looked prepared to lash out at Drevon's grainy appearance, but the way she was standing told Roland she wouldn't have the strength. "A-And what do you want?"

"Me?" they said, their iron scales starting to come into focus amongst the little sandstorm. "I'm sure Roland here can tell you a little more about me."

What? _Him_? He knew almost nothing about Drevon, other than their name! Ashlyn turned to him and gave him a quizzical look, to which he quickly shook his head to. She lifted a brow.

"That, or Nara could. She knows more than you might think. I guess that's the kind of treatment you get when you serve under me."

Wait, Nara? She... She couldn't be his adversary, could she? The yellow dream-speaker had been so kind to him. That couldn't be possible!

"And now she's delivered the both of you unto me." Drevon finally stepped out of the sand floating around them and Roland was able to get an actual look at the dragon's real appearance. They were made of metal, obvious because of the dreams he'd had, but it seemed more like armour now that he'd gotten a closer look. There were links here and there, connecting the scales to each other. It looked like the work of a master craftsman.

The rest of their figure was just as, if not more frightening than their protection. Two large, curved horns jutted out of their skull, as grey as stone. Their wings held that same dull colour and were tattered, looking as if they were old parchment, and they were the only part of Drevon's body not armoured by metal scales. Jagged spines crawled down their back and their thick tail, the last a huge barb attached to the end. And their eyes were as threatening as he'd seen in his dream; a blinding white radiance Roland couldn't help but cower in the presence of.

"I'm surprised by how incompetent she is, however," Drevon continued. "Almost like she didn't want to complete the task I'd set before her. Her dreams were supposed to lead you here, not taunt you about my existence."

So they'd been trying to lead him to this fortress all this time. Roland couldn't believe it. What made him so special and why did it have to be the Atlawan wishing shrine of all places? What were Drevon's plans? He needed to know!

And those thoughts had him pondering further. He'd actually learnt of the shrine in Old Maiden's, once a tavern, now a pile of rubble. Did that mean Lando was in on this as well? What of Darryl? A sapient deer certainly was suspicious, just like Seth had thought, but one that knew of a way out of an incinerated Warfang was more so. How about Alevor? Was he working under Drevon as well? Most of the cloaked beings he'd seen in Tall Plains had those damned firearms, so maybe the blacksmith was the producer, considering his massive collection...

And perhaps Roland was taking this too far. That could've been it, but it all seemed too likely to not be false... He couldn't trust anybody, could he?

"Anyhow, I guess I shall tell you why I'm here." A smirk pulled at Drevon's maw for a moment. "Seeing how competent you both seem to be in combat, I figured a duel was necessary. Between the two of you."

Roland was about to open his mouth to respond – he'd already decided what he was going to do if the events were to come to that – but Ashlyn beat him to it. She seemed furious Drevon had even thought of that.

"The last thing I'm doing is fighting him!" She let a growl escape her muzzle. The metal-clad dragon only chuckled at her attempt to be in the least bit threatening.

"No, this won't be the last thing you do," they reassured her. "Far from it. I have big plans for the both of you. But for now, I'd like to see the two of you compete against each other."

Drevon put on another smile, only adding to the sadistic impression Roland was being given from this dragon. "The rules are simple. First to go down loses. Winner gets to visit Warren. Loser spends some time with me in the Chamber of Fun. If either of you end up dying, you'll only end up making my plans a little harder. Good luck."

And without another word, Drevon vanished, leaving nothing but twisting, grainy particles in their wake. Roland looked to Ashlyn, who seemed astonished by the change of events, and then to the audience wrapped around the bloody coliseum. As he did so, the crowd burst into excitement once more, desiring to see combat between the two of them. Unfortunately for them, he was going to be certain they didn't get the vehement action they wanted.

"What do we do, Ashlyn?" he asked. Ashlyn considered it for a moment, but seemed to have already formulated a plan a moment later, a tiny grin widening on her muzzle.

"Okay. I'll get myself knocked out on purpose. You can go up and speak to Warren."

"What?" He was shocked. She was going to knock herself out? It wasn't that he was worried about her injuring herself more, but of her having to proceed to this so-called Chamber of Fun. Even worse was the fact that Drevon would be the one down there with her. And if that really was the case, virtually anything could happen to her. "Do you know what Drevon would do to you, Ash?"

"No, of course not," she responded. "But I might be able to get some information out of Drevon while I'm down there. They seem like the kind of dragon that reveals a lot about their plans, judging from the way they explained... Nara to us."

It was heartbreaking to think that the yellowy prophet hadn't been their ally at all. Just now, Roland realised the picture Nara had drawn was entirely fabricated, not like it'd be of any use at this point. The thing's she'd told him about the metallic dragon must've been false, also. Perhaps Drevon was thinking of turning another city to rubble. Maybe they were more powerful than Nara had _speculated_.

Although it was unlikely – no, completely improbable – maybe this was the next Dark Master. They had an army composed of willing servants, could've been trying to destroy every city in the Dragon Realms, and maybe they wanted to see the world be blown to smithereens. And if that was what was happening, who would be the world's saviour again? Nara had said purple dragons don't exist...

But Nara wasn't trustworthy. Maybe the end truly was coming. What if, despite the unlikelihood of the situation, Drevon was the purple dragon, just behind a suit of armour so their scales weren't revealed?

What if Roland's thoughts were idiotic and irrational? Yeah, that had to be it. He was only going off on a tangent again. The red dragon had a much more serious issue to deal with, anyway.

"What are you waiting for?" the announcer's voice came forth again. "Get to it or we'll see you both head off to the Chamber!"

Roland wouldn't mind that, actually. He'd still get to be beside Ashlyn when they were being... He guessed it was torture. It was just too obvious. But the ice dragoness, as always, had a better way to go about the problem they were being faced with.

"Look, I'll go down there," she said. He knew she wasn't going to take no for answer. "Maybe you can get some answers from the red guy. And if it makes you feel any better, you can pretend to knock me out. It'd be less painful than putting myself to sleep."

"But..." Roland still did not want her leaving for the Chamber of Fun. Knowing how insane Drevon was, she'd be finding something more horrible and more painful than answers. "Drevon, they'll-"

"Don't worry about me." She tried to reassure him with a smile. Something about it gave Roland the impression her sudden cheerfulness was feigned. "I'll be alright. Now, let's put on a little show for them. We don't want them suspecting anything. I think they'd be a little surprised if you of all dragons put me on the ground so easily."

Roland nodded, but registered her words a moment later. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Ashlyn sniggered as she lowered her body to the ground, looking as if she was prepared to pounce at him. "Nothing, nothing at all... Come at me, Roly."

A grin played on his own maw then and he proceeded to do exactly as she did. It didn't take long before she threw a half-hearted swing at him, which he just backed away from. Then, she tried to poke at him with her tail blade. Again, his meek strategy consisted of casually walking away from her tepid attacks.

This was enough to have their robed viewers screaming remarks about how unsatisfactory this fight was. Really, Roland could only continue smirking. Ashlyn must've been feeling the same way as him, judging by the look she had on her expression, but her smile seemed a little more devious than his. He wondered what she was planning, giving her a jokingly stern look.

At once, she pounced at him, surprising him. She knocked him to the ground, clambered on top of him and held him still. Roland would've been quite mad at her if not for the way she was holding him. With that one maneuverer, she'd actually opened up a lot of possibilities for him. Plus, her usually strong grip on him was slack, if not because she wasn't trying, then because of the injuries she had. The feeling of her burnt paws against his chest was strange; he had no clue how she was still standing after having the scales on her paws basically dissolved in the magma-like sludge... Ashlyn really was a mess right now.

He chose not to worry about it, though, and continued to smile, gently rolling over as to not hurt her. She played along, putting him on top.

"Say goodnight, Ashy." He chuckled heartily. Despite his laughter, however, he couldn't help but feel ashamed of himself. Leaving her to endure suffering alone made him feel terrible.

"Yeah." She shrugged, closing her eyes. "See you soon, Roland."

With that, he lined up a punch and struck the ground beside her with as much force as possible, making it look as if he'd just put her down. A smile was still present on her muzzle as he leaped to his feet, pretending to pant like he'd exerted himself.

"That... was surprising." The presenter sounded like they were disappointed. They had good reason. "But a victory is a victory! Take him away, boys!"

As the voice said so, four robed figures entered the arena from the gigantic door behind him. He wasn't going to struggle. What point was there in doing that? If he did, he'd probably only ruin Ashlyn's plan. And Roland was nerved by the idea of getting a harsh scolding from her, more so than heading off to the Chamber of Fun.

He felt something grasp his neck, a slight twinge of pain crawling up it. A chain was being attached to him again. Before he could even realise it, he was being speedily dragged off. He wondered what awaited him once he arrived at Warren's office?

The yells erupting from behind him started to quieten as he neared the doorway. It was reminder of him leaving Ashlyn behind... He took one last look at the dragoness, who was still pretending to be dazed by his fake attack, but he did see a little smile on her muzzle... He hoped it wouldn't be too long before he saw her again.

He hoped she would be alright.


	23. Scarlet Guise

Scarlet Guise

Warren's office was unusually attractive in comparison to the bland corridors of the complex, but it was also a little bizarre. The cloaked figure was seated behind a timber desk, casually fiddling with the mechanisms in his firearm. A bookshelf packed neatly with books and tomes was positioned on the left; the room was dim, even if the lamp flickering softly atop the bookshelf was included. A large hide was sprawled across the floor – Roland was unsure of the creature – and there lay a pot on the right, a scarlet crystal erect inside of it.

The most prominent feature of the cosy room, however, had to be the arched wall of glass behind Roland's foe. He could see the fortress in its entirety, a huge labyrinth of hallways, rooms, and spires stood upon a massive island. Courts containing grey blobs, probably dreadwings, impressive airships, and huge squadrons of hooded people accompanied the large mass of buildings. He hadn't a clue how Warren lived this high up, in a tower of all places, without getting at least somewhat sick of the sheer height. They had to be at least a kilometre up in the sky. If it wasn't for the elevator, as one of the green figures escorting him to Warren's office had called it, it would take forever to sprint just to this height!

"I see you've come to join me, dragon," Warren exclaimed, setting the pistol aside. "Please. Take seat."

After hesitating slightly – this scarlet being didn't seem like the most trustworthy of people to Roland – he sat himself on the fuzzy hide, not saying a word. He was unsure of what to say. There had to be reason for Warren's insistence, however.

"So..." Warren leaned back in his chair, resting his arms behind his head. "You've won your duel. I wish I could've gotten to see it. I bet it was amazing, considering your injuries."

The red dragon wanted to glare and make a sharp comment regarding Warren's remark, but thought better of it. He didn't take too kindly to insults. "Yeah, I... won."

"You probably want a bit of healing," he said. As surprising as the offer from Warren was, Roland could not agree more. "You can shatter some of that crystal over there."

Roland was a little sceptical at first, but after realising Warren wasn't going to do anything when his back was turned, he treaded towards it and eagerly tore a sizable chunk out of it. He ground it into smaller bits against the floorboards, crushing the fragile gemstone within his paws. The energy started to course through his veins once again; the bruises and cuts were sealed, the burns treated, and he was only left with a slight headache after using such a big piece.

"Don't use too much," Warren suggested, obviously feigning a concerned tone. "You might die."

Roland was aware. Even the piece he'd used had been a little too big, and had thus left him with his head in a little pain. If a dragon did happen to absorb too many, many things could go wrong. The most common case – although, it didn't happen often to dragons; he knew most were generally intelligent enough to know their way around spirit gems – was the instantaneous detonation of the organs. Everything would just explode, annihilating the insides... He shuddered at the disturbing thought.

"Now, sit down again." Warren stopped leaning and sat on the edge of his chair, putting his gloved hands together. "We're going to have a conversation. That sounds like fun."

Roland's cloaked adversary really was an odd one. Usually, captors wouldn't care for much more than a word, if that, but this individual in particular wanted to have full-on discussion with him. Yes, something had to be wrong with him. Something just felt... off.

After positioning himself on the animal hide once more, Warren proceeded to grab the gun on the desk. Roland was worried he was going to let loose a few bullets for a moment, but he let those nerves die when he saw him only twiddling with the components again.

"Do you know what this weapon does, dragon?" Warren asked. Roland quickly shook his head. "I'm pretty sure you already know it's magical, but the bullets in this gun home in on the user's target. Only this one exists, obviously. It was forged out in the Middle of Nowhere, the heart of a fire wyrm at its core... See, watch this."

When Roland saw the robed foe point the barrel of the firearm at him, he widened his eyes. And at once, Warren shot the gun directly at him... But there was no pain. In fact, he heard a metallic twang only a moment later. The only iron object in the room was the pot, so he inspected that. Funnily enough, it'd been penetrated by a bullet.

"They called him Waylin," Warren continued speaking, adopting a tone as if he was reading out of a storybook. "A masterful engineer and gunslinger. He passed away recently, actually. Probably around ten years ago. And this weapon happened to be his last ever project; a gun with the capabilities of a fire wyrm's missiles. Drevon found it on that random island when they were travelling to Feline Falls across the Eduric Ocean up north. They decided to hand it over to me when I was made captain."

All the way up north... There were just so many places up there; Roland could hardly keep track of them all. Perhaps the southern section of the Dragon Realms, the land in which Avalar stood upon, was bland to Warren. He didn't seem to particularly admire what he made seem like the technologically disadvantaged area of the continent. Of course, considering Roland hadn't travelled across the Burned Lands, he couldn't say much.

Another thought occurred to him. It was strange, but thus far, Warren had told him a vast amount of information about the world. What he was saying didn't seem false, either. In fact, he appeared to be rather interested in history, much like Roland himself. There was, however, also a question that'd been nagging him since Warren had first spoken to him after arriving.

"Why do you bother telling me all this stuff?" He angled his head. "Aren't you just going to end up selling me... or killing me in that arena?"

"Well, why not?" he said, relaxing in his chair a little more. "I get the feeling you have an interest in history and I love sharing what I know. You're smarter than a lot of the buffoons down there, you know? It's nice to have someone who shares the same passions as you."

If it'd been anyone else, Roland would've lifted his head and beamed at the compliment. He still let a tiny smile slip onto his lips, however... Maybe Warren wasn't as bad as he'd seemed at first glance? Perhaps... No, he was intelligent enough to know that he really shouldn't be taking a liking to his captor. After all, he had threatened Ashlyn that one time...

"Anyway, I guess we should get to the main reason you're here." Warren stretched slightly, reaching under the desk. Roland frowned.

"And... what might that be?" he asked, his voice suddenly full of worry.

"Oh, you'll find out in a few seconds... Aha!" There came an almost inaudible bleep from under the desk. Quickly, the bookshelf started to shift upwards, being pushed into an incline in the ceiling to reveal a small, stone chamber. He didn't see much inside the area's innards, except for more chains... This time, the metallic links were much shorter, being little more than a leg in length, and there were more than just the one this time. "Could you walk over there and put those chains around your paws?"

Roland instantly got the memo. He was very wrong to think that Warren wasn't a bad guy. "R-Really? I... I thought-"

"Right now, red dragon," he interrupted, leaping out of his chair and standing directly upright. "I don't want to force you."

Roland looked to the wall again, his face contorting into one of fear. There were seven links there, one for every limb and his neck. If he decided to follow his adversary's instructions now, he'd be made completely immobile and be put at his mercy. He'd probably be turned into some kind of plaything.

"Now," Warren repeated firmly, aiming the firearm at him. Roland's heart started to hammer at the walls of his chest, but he had to follow the orders or else he would have to risk being made a target. And from what he'd seen, his enemy was incapable of missing.

Fearfully treading over to the large slot in the wall, he grabbed the first cuff, one that was supposed to fit around his paws. Before, he wouldn't have been so nervous about attaching himself to the chains again, but now? He was pondering the demented things Warren might want to do to him.

"Just fit it over your wrist," Warren continued trying to encourage him. The scarlet figure paced up behind him and Roland felt the barrel be pushed against his head. It was death or torture. There was no third option.

At least, that was what he thought for a second. He realised Warren wasn't actually trying to restrain him at all. His enemy was expecting him to just go through with what he said. And that gave him the perfect idea, even if it did seem a little rash.

"How about... no?" Roland turned his head to Warren and grinned. That was enough to somewhat infuriate his red captor.

"You listen to what I say, dragon." He put a finger on the gun's trigger. "There are no _buts_."

That was where he was wrong. Roland was carefully moving his tail blade up to his enemy's back, like that time beforehand, that same cheesy smile cracking his muzzle. Oh, Warren was in for a bit of a scare.

"I said, put the damn thing- _Gah_!" One quick scraping with Roland's tail blade to the back was all it took to get his enemy yelling. Roland had made sure it wasn't too big; he still had his own plans for him.

Immediately, the red dragon snatched the weapon out of Warren's gloved hand while he was distracted, proceeding to quickly get away from the enemy. After awkwardly struggling to get the firearm pointed at his foe, he placed a toe on the trigger himself – firing a gun without the proper hands to do so was going to be difficult. It took Warren a moment to recognise the object he had in his paws, but when he did he threw his arms into the air in shock.

"You... You wouldn't!" Warren started to back up towards the desk; Roland wasn't having any of it.

"Get back here or I'll shoot!" he yelled. At once, Warren started to move back into the open. "Good. Now put those chains on."

"You won't shoot me..."

"I said do it!" He pointed the gun to the ceiling, firing off a shot for good measure. The sound was overwhelmingly noisy, easy enough to frighten Warren slightly.

"Okay, okay..." He took the metal link in his hands and fitted it around one of his wrists. A barely audible click resounded within the mechanism. "What now?"

Roland took that as indication his scarlet enemy was locked up and pointed at the other chain. "The other one as well. Hurry up."

Warren slowly did as he was asked and Roland couldn't help but smile a little. He was actually the one in control now; there were so many things he could do! Of course, he wasn't thinking of doing appalling things to him, but he sure as hell was going to force some answers out of him.

He started to walk up to Warren, discarding the pistol. "Well, I... I guess the tables have turned."

"What are you going to do with me, dragon?" Warren questioned, his tone nervous.

"First, I want to know who you are." Roland stopped where he was walking, taking a seat on the floor in front of Warren.

The red adversary exhaled. "Warren. Captain A of Drevon's First Unit."

Roland felt like he understood what he was saying and continued. "And what's under the hood?"

"I'm afraid I can't tell you that, dragon."

"Would you rather die or answer questions?" In truth, Roland didn't think he had the guts to end Warren's life. Putting down a scorpion or one of those wrinkly thingies was mostly fine with him, but doing the same to a sentient being? That felt different. Even if he'd despised Seth for all he was worth, murdering him had been such a horrible experience. The last thing he wanted to do now was relive the past.

"I can't," Warren reaffirmed. "I won't."

"Then I'll find out myself." Roland lifted himself from his haunches and proceeded to move further towards Warren. His ex-captor started trying to pull at the metal cuffs, the chains jangling mockingly, but it was, of course, no use at all. A few seconds later and Roland was standing directly in front of his adversary. "You might want to bend down... Or you could make this easier and-"

One powerful kick to the snout was enough to completely cut Roland off. Stumbling aimlessly, he eventually collapsed, his paws clasped over his now bleeding nostrils. He groaned at the agony; his snout felt fractured, maybe even broken.

"I said you weren't getting at me," Warren exclaimed, his tone almost menacing. Roland couldn't care less, though. He scrambled to his paws, still holding a paw over his face, tears stinging at his eyes. The blood rushed down his forepaws, wetting the boards below. Just the sight alone was enough to make him gag slightly.

His feelings could wait, however. He quickly remembered there were leg cuffs sitting at Warren's feet. Why didn't he think of that before? "P-Put those other things on..."

Warren shook his head. "I am not disobeying-"

"Put the frigging cuffs on!" he yelled, anger thick within his tone. He looked to the gun dropped on the floor next to him and grasped it, trying to get a feel for how it worked again. When Warren didn't do as he was told, Roland only let out a frustrated growl.

"Not letting it happen."

Annoyingly, this person seemed to value Drevon more than his own life. Suppressing an exasperated sigh, Roland glared at him. "I really don't want to shoot you, Warren, but I... Can you just cooperate? Please?"

"Drevon demands it." Warren was only going to continue to assert his position on the matter, wasn't he? Roland's paw started to quiver at the thought. He'd run out of choices, and in spite of how strongly he disliked him and how excited he was about his master plan before, he couldn't help but feel sickened by what he was about to go along with.

"I-I'm sorry..." he lowly muttered, his paw only shaking more. Roland had a feeling they could've been good friends if it wasn't for the whole Drevon ordeal, but what was the point in worrying now? Getting revenge was what he needed to do and now was the time to do it.

Roland slowly started to pull back the trigger on the firearm, noticing Warren had stopped trying to pull at his bonds, now looking as if he was staring at him. Not wanting to see the damage he would cause, the dragon shut his eyelids and prepared for the gunfire about to burst out of the gun's barrel. And suddenly, one word came to mind.

 _Stomach_.

An ear-shattering crack burst from the weapon's barrel, a bright flash of orange coating the walls in amber light for but a second. A scream quickly followed; Roland was too curious to not open his eyes. He saw blood flowing from a fleshy hole in Warren's stomach and almost wanted to puke. But he did his best to stay strong and paced over to the cloaked being.

"C-Can you... you please just do it?" Even he was surprised by how much his voice trembled. All this... It was reminding him too much of Seth. He didn't want to have to murder anyone else, especially not to get only an answer from somebody. "Y-You only need to take off the hood..."

"I... can't," Warren groaned. Something in his tone told Roland he was feeling afraid. "I physically can't..."

Roland stopped to think about the way Warren had worded his strained speech. He actually couldn't remove it, as if it were stuck to his face? Shaking his head in confusion, the quadruped sat down a metre away from him as to not get booted so easily.

"Are you going to put the cuffs on, or am I going to have to... to..." He stopped himself. Death wasn't a word he could just throw around lightly; it felt so wrong to speak it. After witnessing it on numerous occasions, it really didn't carry the same meaning around him. As much as he believed in them, it didn't seem like a one-way ticket to the Ancestors above. No, corpses were far worse looking than that.

And being the one who had actually slain someone in cold blood definitely didn't help the situation. Even one of his enemies – Seth had been a real jerk to him over his numbered days – did not deserve the punishment he'd received back then... His death felt worthless. All for nothing.

Frankly, that was how Roland was feeling as well. His own life hadn't really been for much. Sure, he'd started to rectify that issue by now – Ashlyn was an amazing friend – but that didn't change the things he'd once committed to. A life of theft, only trying to get around on what was usually scraps, didn't seem like a great use of his time. He could've walked to the local orphanage and become a simply better dragon, yet he'd chosen a life of crime because he'd enjoyed it back then.

He didn't know who was worse: a thieving, part-time murderer, or a simple – perhaps even mindless – unit in a city-burning, wicked dragon's army?

He found it impossible to answer.

"I-It's done, dragon," Warren spoke up again. Roland glanced up and saw he'd actually done what he'd asked. But that wasn't the thing that grabbed a hold of his attention first; the pool of red fluid surrounding the enemy was. It stained the mahogany boards, oozing through the little slits between them. "Hurry up. M-My life is... is _going_."

"W-Why now?" Roland inquired, his legs quivering at the sight. He struggled to stay upright. "I thought you didn't want to disobey Drevon..."

"The... The masks we wear have one flaw D-Drevon fails to realise. Their effects a-are... somewhat cut off by blood loss. If you could just get the thing off... I'd b-be at peace. Please, Roland..."

Masks? That was what was behind the hood? Roland was incredibly curious now, deciding to walk up to Warren once again on his shaky legs. As suspicious as this seemed – the part about blood loss seemed extremely fishy – Warren wouldn't be able to get at him now that he was chained to the wall. He was finally able to find out the answer to a question he'd been waiting an eternity for.

Soon, Roland wrapped his claws around Warren's red hood, taking a deep, trembling breath. Fortunately, the figure robed in red didn't retaliate at all... Perhaps he was telling the truth? This turn of events was just... simply confusing.

But that didn't matter. It was time to see what was in store for himself. After a mental count of three, he tore off the hood.

Warren wasn't lying.

There, strapped to his face, was a mask. It was more of a helmet, really, covering his entire skull, and was of a black steel. He could see little features poking out of the material, areas on the inside for a long muzzle and a pair of ears. And the eyes... They were a freakish, misty white, not unlike Drevon's eyes.

"Th-There's a lock on the top," Warren said, his voice beginning to weaken. "Just... unlock that and... pull the damn thing off."

Roland guided his quivering forepaws to the very top of the steel mask, feeling for the lock Warren was speaking about. It didn't take him long; it was but a simple catch jutting out of the tip of the cranium, obviously used to pull it off. With a tiny flick, it came loose.

"B-Before you unlock it, o-one thing." Warren's tone seemed so... pleading. Roland was immediately at his attention. "C-Can you say hello to Darryl for me if you see him again? I... I miss that deer. Promise me-"

Warren spluttered heavily, cutting himself off. Roland nodded, feeling moisture building up in his eyes once more. He'd killed somebody completely innocent again, hadn't he? "I... I promise."

"He'll... He'll tell you more. Just... Thank you."

Roland grasped the helmet with his paws and stared straight into those milky eyes. Something about them felt so innocent. Maybe that was just him, but they really did feel that way, like Warren had never been a bad guy in the first place. Everything was starting to make sense.

"Be prepared," he breathed. "These masks... They make you see things."

The red dragon didn't care about what he was saying anymore. Soon, he lifted the mask off Warren's head. For a moment, Roland's eyes seemed to connect with those colourless eyes.

His own eyes rolled backwards in his skull.

* * *

A violent vortex of colours; spinning reds, swirling blues. The world spun around Roland as if it was being blended together. Bile rose in his throat and came out in a vomited heap; he tried his best to gather his bearings, but his efforts were to no avail.

He took a step and noticed the ground being melded together underneath him, distorted browns colliding with one another, not unlike a dream he'd dreamt not long ago. Another step – a clanging filled his mind, loud and painful. One more – the walls built up around him, grey in colour.

Roland grabbed his cranium and yelled out, a constant throbbing sending waves of agony across it. His heart pounded fiercely against his ribcage and his stomach churned, threatening to spill its contents again. And his lungs refused to provide him with the air he needed.

His vision already blackening, he fell to his side and reached for the air, as if trying to futilely draw it into himself. What was going on? Why was this happening? The throbbing only intensified; he felt like his mind was slowly melting inside his skull, turning to mush.

Roland needed this to stop. It hurt so much. He felt ill, he could hardly think, he couldn't breathe. If only it would come to a halt... It needed to stop.

"Just..." He choked, the words barely able to leave his mouth. "Just... St-Stop!"

And by some miracle, that was exactly what happened. The agony swiftly left his body, the vomit retreated back into his stomach and the world ceased its blurry spin. Raising his head, utterly dumbfounded, he climbed to his feet and brushed his scales off, wondering what in the Ancestors had just happened to him.

His golden eyes focused on the object in front of him, an untidy, soft bed, as if he'd awoken just then. What a joke. An irritated sigh escaping his maw, he stretched his ligaments, spread his wings, and looked around him.

Roland was astonished. This room looked exactly like his old room... back when he was living with his parents. A little wooden box full of toys against the wall, a shelf above it, packed full of his favourite novels... Oh, even the one about the world blowing up and the near extinction of the dragon race! It was all there!

A grin started to grace his lips as he continued to take in the beauty of his old bedroom, forgetting the odd experience he'd just went through. There was a small, golden candle atop a desk that looked like it'd seen better days; his few attempts at trying to write himself were still pinned to the wall above his bed head – they weren't particularly amazing, but he didn't think he was awful. And a gilded mirror, fairly low to the floor, was just beside his bed, slightly smudged from pressing his paws on it. Everything was absolutely the same. He couldn't believe it.

He was actually back home.

Everything that had happened to him... Was it all just a silly dream? He'd never become a thief? Never journeyed across the ocean? Never met those people?

But it had all felt so _real_! His mind surely couldn't imagine such a fantastic story, full of so many individuals. He could remember some of the conversations he thought he'd had recently, the arena battle, and killing... Warren. Still, if none of that had happened, he was completely okay with it. It was only a little nightmare, after all, even if it was kind of twisted.

What of Ashlyn, though? If none of that happened... she didn't exist. Every single thing he'd been through, every struggle, was but a figment of his imagination. She wasn't there with him. Not there every step of the way, like she'd told him.

He suddenly felt alone.

"...and I want the best for him, Aurus! Don't you understand that?"

Roland jumped up at the voice. It seemed he wasn't as lonely as he thought. The tone was feminine and light, and it probably would've sounded caring if it wasn't for the harsh yell. That had to be his mother downstairs, arguing with somebody.

"We can't just send him to the academy, Elayne. They can't find out about us!"

The next was male, most likely his father. He sounded more aggressive than the previous tone; not as gentle, but he sounded like he had good intentions. Unfortunately for Roland, the conversation he'd only just picked up on was perplexing.

For the life of him, why was he only able to remind himself of his parents' names now that they'd been spoken? He was fourteen! He should've been capable of something so easy, but he had no memory of them before this point. And he was able to remember his own room effortlessly, too. Was there something wrong with his mind?

Roland looked down at himself and noticed something quite bizarre. He was smaller than usual. Turning to the golden mirror, he inspected himself, only to find that he had the appearance of a young dragon. In fact, he seemed to be only five years old!

"What in the..." Roland clasped his paws over his mouth before he could get a sentence out. His tone of voice was so high-pitched, like it hadn't deepened. That couldn't be right. He would've thought the dream had made him feel older, but he didn't think he would be so self-aware if he was this young!

He had tried to ignore it before, but the name Aurus stuck out like a ray of sunshine through a crack. Wasn't he Ashlyn's... But that couldn't make sense. She... never existed in the first place, as much as he hated to think that.

Or maybe _this_ was the dream he was having. Didn't Warren say he would see things? Perhaps he was having a vision, akin to the ones Nara had given him. This time, though, he was totally aware inside of it, unlike the others. Without a proper answer, he looked to the door of his room, opposite his untidy bed.

He needed to ask his parents about this. They might've had a clue as to the odd circumstances right now. Intruding on their verbal skirmish was probably a good thing to do, anyhow.

Roland took the door out of his room and found a set of steps that curled downwards, much to his confusion. He didn't remember there ever being a staircase through his door... Not unless he was in an older home before he became a thief. Somehow, he just couldn't quite place a claw on it.

His room must've been higher than the rest of the building; again, his memories were playing tricks on him. He could remember obscure things like a particular book on his old shelf, but not something like the layout of his own home.

Something was definitely up. He knew it. Maybe he'd always had issues with remembering events. That may have been it, but it didn't seem probable.

"Think, Roland, _think_!" he hissed. It didn't serve to help whatsoever. "Stupid brain... Why have you got to be so rude?"

Huffing to himself, he padded down the steps in search of his arguing parents. The passage wasn't very wide – if he was maybe a little wider, he wouldn't have fitted through the stairway at all. That sounded like bad house design, but if his parents were this careless when it came to buying a home, they had to be rather rich... Or incredibly stupid.

With the bottom of the cramped stairwell came a much larger, more open hallway to allow room for a greater dragon than he. It seemed he resided in some kind of small tower built into the house. Two arched doorways on his left led into other rooms, and the end of the hall turned a corner rightward, stretching off into its own space. Deciding not to waste time, he jogged down the hall and turned the bend.

The living room he entered was nice and cosy. A crackling blaze on a hearth against the right wall illuminated the room, a lounge made of lovely red fabric opposite it. More bookshelves (it seemed his whole family were avid readers) were against the far wall, and a few items were sat atop of it – one seemed to be a pretty family portrait, sketched and coloured beautifully. In the centre of this stood what he assumed were his parents, quarrelling and breaking the peacefulness of an otherwise tranquil scene.

"Why are you so stubborn?" Elayne inquired, still mad. Her scales were of a pale red, almost pink, and her build was quite muscular for a female. She had three long, golden horns, one protruding from the centre of her skull, and a pair on the back; if not for their chipped appearance, they would've been graceful. Her wings were tattered, beaten from constant use, and a scar as long as one of her legs cut across her golden stomach. Quite unusual was the fact that she had no tail blade, only a little stump.

"We can just train the boy ourselves! It's better than risking our lives," his father retorted, flaring his equally as holey wings angrily. One look at Aurus was enough to unsettle Roland slightly. His scales were a deep, ocean blue, worn and scraped from what had to have been battle. His stomach was a horribly dark shade of grey, almost black in colour, and his four horns were of that same colour. The blade on his tail looked wickedly sharp – one weak swipe could probably cut a limb off. Where his mother looked genuinely caring, Aurus looked cruel and merciless.

Roland hadn't realised it until now, silly as he was, but what if this was the dragon Ashlyn had spoken about? He really shouldn't have been standing in front of him. This dragon was apparently a murderer, after all.

But he was also his dad; Aurus seemed to have Roland's best interests at heart. Perhaps he should stop worrying. Maybe it was best to believe he'd been dreaming earlier, as unlikely as it seemed to be by now.

He was just so confused.

"M-Mum?" he stammered. "Dad?"

For whatever reason, they didn't answer him, only continuing to partake in heated conflict. He cleared his throat, but it still didn't have any effect on them. It was as if they were deaf to him and only him.

"We don't have the time to train him!" Elayne yelled.

"We're moving out soon, anyway!" Aurus hollered back. "We won't be able to send him to the academy with so much going on!"

"They have facilities there to keep them inside for extended periods of time! It would do us good to get rid of Roland for a few weeks so we can pack our things!"

"And what if he tells someone about us? He's seen murder before! What if he accidentally lets something slip?"

"Whose fault would that be?"

"Oh, you shut up!"

Roland narrowed his eyes. This squabbling was getting on his nerves... But the arguing was also a little useful to him. He now did, at some point, remember moving into a new home. In fact, he wasn't in this house when his parents disappeared from his life. He just specifically remembered the contents of his room, which had remained exactly the same throughout the move. Where he was now, however, was forgotten. Most of the memories from his life as an innocent had faded away with time.

He did need to stop this, though. If he wasn't careful, his mother and father might start physically attacking each other. After one deep breath, he shouted. "Stop arguing!"

That they did, but not in the way he expected. Somehow, his words stopped them from moving completely, like they'd been frozen in time itself. He frowned, unable to comprehend the sight in front of him.

Roland gazed down at his paws, noticing a soft, orange glow stemming from them. What in the world was that supposed to be? He clenched his paws, waved them around, trying to get it to vanish, but the faint illumination stayed.

He looked at the fireplace after having a thought and realised the fire had stopped blazing, now unmoving. A frozen flame... How strange.

Something occurred to him then: if he could bring time to a halt, perhaps he could start it up again. He grinned slightly at the thought.

"...Go?"

Immediately, the fight began once more. Roland wasn't worried about that, however. He could control time! That had to explain how the agony just suddenly stopped earlier.

He couldn't believe it, though. At long last, he'd discovered his power! He wasn't a no-breath anymore!

"Mum! Dad!" he yelled with excitement. "I discovered my element! I can control time!"

Again, of course, they did not listen to him, only proceeding to throw harsh words at each other. He narrowed his eyes, irritated by their ignorance. And then a hilarious idea came to mind. At least, he thought it would be humorous.

"Stop." He grinned when exactly what he'd planned ensued. "Go. Stop. Go. Stop go stop go stop go stop go stop..."

He couldn't stop himself from chuckling at the sight. Constantly hitting the pause button was so childish, yet so entertaining. His mother and father deserved this for being so vexing, anyhow.

 _"I see you're enjoying yourself."_

He stopped instantly. That voice did not come from his parents, but he recognised the tone. That villain from his dreams. Drevon...

Well, they weren't dreams then, were they?

Roland turned around to look at the metallic dragon, but he couldn't see the metallic dragon anywhere. "I, um... I guess," he responded quietly, fear beginning to get the better of him.

 _"It could be all yours, Roland..."_ Drevon's voice echoed strangely. It seemed to just come from the inside of his mind. _"It could be all yours if you do one thing for me."_

"And... what do you have in mind?" he asked, swallowing his saliva. Honestly, he did not desire an answer, but he didn't think Drevon would appreciate him ignoring them.

Drevon laughed at his question, a cold, unnerving chuckle. _"Do not attempt to escape the complex. You know the way out. It's right in front of you. But if you break through that window, I will kill you. It does not matter whether you are alive or not. You've served your purpose."_

Wasn't he only going to end up being made a slave? Was that really a life worth living for? If he had the chance to escape, maybe it was for the best if he took it. And even if the time powers were awesome, even with the satisfaction he'd gotten out of using them, he was getting the feeling that Drevon was bluffing. He'd begun to realise that a dragon couldn't control something so amazingly powerful. Nobody, except for the purple dragons. He obviously wasn't of those.

 _"I've shown you long forgotten memories, Roland,"_ Drevon continued. _"Everything you see here happened in the past. You're in the body of your five year-old self, watching an argument. You can't interact with your parents, however. You can't change the past."_

 _"So, just listen to me. I've shown you a piece of your past and I haven't put you down yet."_ Drevon's voice softened a little, strange to Roland. He'd never heard them speak so silently. _"Do as I say. You will be spared."_

Roland did consider it for a moment. In spite of the unmistakable deception involving the powers, Drevon was right. They had helped him here... But what if this was entirely fabricated, as well?

"H-How do I know I can trust you?" he asked. "I know these time powers are stupid, Drevon."

 _"Very quick to learn."_ Roland could hear the grin in their voice. _"Good. You're much unlike Ashlyn down here. But do not fret, Roland. I have no reason to lie about these events. You deserve to know your story for bringing Ashlyn to me."_

He widened his eyes. "What? What the hell do you want with her?"

Once more, Drevon laughed. _"Don't you remember? I took her to the Chamber of Fun. I have already gotten what I need from her. You'll see her again, but probably not in the condition you expect."_

If Roland could attack this dragon, he would've done so already. As physically meek as he was, he wouldn't let anyone get between him and his best friend. "You... You're pure evil."

" _And I thought you were at least somewhat intelligent,"_ Drevon countered _. "There is no perfect definition for evil – or good, for that matter. Saying I am_ pure evil _is false, simply because it doesn't exist. You might see me as bad, but I consider you bad as well. Bad for me and bad for what I'm trying to do. Yet I keep you alive..."_

"What about the Dark Master? He was-"

 _"Don't be silly, whelp. Malefor was not evil, just misguided. He only wished to fulfil his destiny, like most of the purple dragons. But sometimes destiny is better left untouched. Sometimes_ fate _shouldn't be your driving force."_

Of course, Drevon had a point. Anything he did, he would think of as good – or at least beneficial. But to them, he was an inconvenience.

 _"It's about time I send you back to reality,"_ Drevon exclaimed. _"You have a decision to come to, Roland. Life or death. It is your choice."_

Before Roland could complain, pain once more overwhelmed his senses. He was quickly out cold.

* * *

Sweat. It was all Roland could feel as he woke up. It covered his form, dripping down his facial scales, trickling down his sides. He felt sticky and his snout was hurting.

Swiftly, he remembered the vision he'd experienced and leaped to his feet. Aurus, Drevon, Ashlyn... What had he just undergone?

He noticed a figure as red as lifeblood just in front of him, a helmet at their feet. That was... Warren. The innocent Roland had slain with a gunshot. What was more haunting was the expression Warren had worn in his final moments; mouth agape, red eyes glazed over and lifeless. Furry ears drooping, broad snout incapable of obtaining the oxygen he clearly needed.

It was then, Roland found, that Warren was a _cheetah_ , one of the denizens of Feline Falls across the seas in the north. And obviously guiltless.

Drevon was sick. He was just as, if not more so.

Roland had no time to worry about who he'd murdered, though. He'd already made up his mind when it came to Drevon's inquiry. He wasn't going to let Ashlyn come to harm.

It was about time he escaped. All he needed to do was find her.


	24. One Tortured Soul

**So, before this chapter starts, I have an announcement. I'm not working on this story anymore. Long story short, I've lost all motivation to write it. More on that at the end of chapter 26.**

 **I am truly sorry. But yeah. Hope you enjoy the rest of this fic, anyway. I've given it a premature end because I didn't want to leave everyone in the dark. :P**

* * *

One Tortured Soul

 _Faster_. That word ran through Roland's mind on a continuous loop, begging him to keep up his pace. Unfortunately, he was going as swiftly as his thin legs could take him, and with no idea of where to actually go, he was growing more stressed by the moment. He felt like he could just break down on the spot.

But he wouldn't. Never would he leave Ashlyn here, alone and without even an ounce of hope.

The passages were long, seemingly endless, but he tried his best to remember the layout of the maze from Warren's spire. With so many rooms, however, that was beyond difficult. Turning corners aimlessly was better than heeding Drevon's words, though. He wouldn't ever trust that vile dragon.

 _Do not attempt to escape the complex... If you break that window, I will kill you._

Roland was going to be certain the complete opposite happened. There was no doubt about it. But rescuing Ashlyn was an entirely different matter. That was starting to feel like more of a question of if he would find her, not when, considering how fortunate he would have to be to reach her.

"Oh, snap out of it, Roland," he chastised himself. "You will find her... She's counting on you."

It was hard to believe his own thoughts, but they were the only thing that kept him scampering towards his unknown destination. If not for her, he'd probably be listening to the iron dragon.

He noticed the corridor ahead split off into a T; he tried his best to stop himself from yelling out in frustration at the situation he was about to be faced with. Left or right. Only one path would reveal what he was desperately searching for... He didn't know if he was heading in the correct direction, anyway. Sighing, he chose to go right. There was no real reasoning behind it, only because he simply preferred the choice.

At once, a blaring noise echoed across the complex. It sounded like an alarm. He realised he was now going to be pursued by the hooded cheetahs. How worse could his position possibly get?

One cloaked adversary jogged around the next bend a few metres up, pulling a firearm out of its holster. Roland's eyes widened in surprise for a second before he darted to the left, narrowly dodging a blast of gunfire, the metal barely scraping the surface of his scales. Not wanting to kill another innocent, he skipped right past them and continued on as they were reloading. He was not going to let them get a shot off on him again. That would only impede Ashlyn's chances.

"Stop in the name of Drevon!" they shouted, their gun obviously ready to fire. Roland didn't reply, of course, but he did predict the next bullet, deciding to dart to his right not a moment too soon.

After rounding another bend, he did happen to lose the enemy, but two more took their place, both with guns at the ready, standing side by side. Roland wasn't sure how to dodge them this time, and before he could do anything, two shots were fired off at him. As luck would have it, he wasn't hit directly, but one of his horns was. He felt the strong substance chip from the impact, but he was otherwise left unscathed.

This time, he would have to knock these foes to the ground. There was no other way through. He thought about his options as he managed to get past another synchronised shot from the two adversaries ahead of him... A quick slash to the leg would have to do.

Roland was no combat expert – Ashlyn held that honour – but he knew his tail blade was keen. Before the figures could load their weapons again, he got in between the pair of them and spun around in one rapid motion. He felt the blade rip through a material, and two cries followed.

Slightly curious to see the damage he'd dealt, he looked back quickly and noticed his enemy's clasping their stomachs. He'd missed his mark and instead probably mortally wounded them. He'd killed two more innocents... Trying to suppress his shaky breathing, he continued forward, deciding to never look back.

If it was for Ashlyn, he would do almost anything. Even murdering others if it came to it.

The next bend came rather quickly; he skidded around the corner and came face to face with a group of five robed cheetahs, all blocking the way with sharp glaives, much like the one he'd seen on an adversary in the grove. Roland wasn't sure how he would get past this wall of cheetahs – he'd fluked the last two. Unable to continue, he had to come to a stop, or else he would only end up being slain. He didn't want Ashlyn to be forever stuck in that... torture chamber, but attempting to get past would be idiotic.

"Ah, so he's stopped!" a foul voice called. Roland recognised it as the scoundrel standing guard at the arena door, and also one of the foes who'd led him up to Warren. He found them quite exasperating. "I'm surprised. I thought you would try to plough right through us!"

He didn't bother exchanging pleasantries. He wasn't in the mood. "Where's Ashlyn?"

"Oh, your little girlfriend?" They chuckled. Roland felt his eyes contract into a glare of their own accord. "Not here, dragon. That's for damn sure."

"Where is she?" he asked again, his tone already rising. He couldn't hold back any of his frustration now.

"Ooh, little dwagon here is sooo threatening." Again, they laughed at his attempt to be at least somewhat menacing, and the others joined them in doing so. Roland didn't expect much more, seeing how he'd been made a laughing stock whenever he'd tried, but he still clenched his jaws in frustration, trying his best to not just charge at the enemy. It wasn't like him to go out of his way to strike people. Their comments were starting to wear him down, however. "Oh, hey there, Ike."

He raised a brow in confusion, losing the death stare. Before he could react, though, a force smashed into his spine, swiftly sending him to the floor. Grunting, he tried to struggle out of what felt like somebody's grip, but he didn't make it far.

"Nice catch," the scoundrel said, starting to walk over to Roland. Now that he wasn't on his feet and prepared to battle if necessary, he was quite frightened by the approaching adversary. "What are you going to do about it now, dragon?"

He squirmed as best as he could, but made no progress whatsoever. Glancing up fearfully at the glaive-wielding cheetah, he stopped moving, noticing a boot be placed right in front of his snout.

"What have you got to say for yourself, little dragon?" Roland could hear the malicious grin in their tone. The figure awaited his response, but never ended up getting it. "Is that how you want to play, huh?"

Again, he didn't open his maw to speak up, only turning his gaze to the floor. He surely wasn't going to rescue Ashlyn now. No, now he was at the hands of these enemies...

He shouldn't have even bothered trying. It would've had to be an impossible feat, anyway. He'd failed Ashlyn and now he was going to die for it.

"Do as I say, dragon!" they shouted. Roland quickly looked up again only to find a boot coming straight for his muzzle. Of course, he couldn't possibly dart out of the way, so he took the damage head-on.

The impact was horrible. The boot's steel cap was forcefully lodged into his mouth, knocking a fang out with it, and he felt his already fractured snout truly break this time. Not only did his adversary punt him as if he were a ball, they left the iron shoe in his mouth, adding to the agonising experience.

As the pain continued to intensify, he was reduced to nothing but muffled sobs, chokes, and tears; he wasn't able to hold them in this time. Soon, however, he felt the boot leave his muzzle. He tried to gasp for precious air, but the blood rising in his throat made it seem impossible.

"C'mon... You can't be that weak, can you?" Still, his enemy laughed, and again, the others partook in the cackling, as well. "Whatever... Answer the question, dragon."

The only thing that left his mouth was his own fluids; he couldn't even get the words out properly, choking on his own vomit. Every attempt was incomprehensible.

"You're daring, aren't you?" they remarked incorrectly. Roland started to shake his head, not wanting another mouthful of shoe, but in the end, he got exactly that. "It's not that hard. Just speak with, you know, your mouth?"

Something told Roland they already knew he couldn't get the words to leave his lips, and that they were just toying with him. Nobody was going to save him now, either. Everybody else was locked up tight and Ashlyn... The friend he truly needed right now wasn't there with him.

"I really am surprised by just how resilient you are, though," they said. "Two kicks and you're still not out of it. It usually only takes one..."

He needed an idea. Quickly. His enemy was lining up another shot with their boot. He couldn't possibly let them do that again. If only he could move...

And then he had it. Through the pain and the tears, he had a stroke of genius.

He waited patiently for them to prepare another kick. And when that shoe came flying at him, he managed to shift his head to the left. The boot glanced off his cheek, ripping a scale of two off in the process, but it also collided with the cheetah pinning him down. At once, the weight was lifted off his shoulders, and he scrambled to his feet.

"Oh, crap," the scoundrel muttered under his breath. Roland heard him loud and clear. With a roar as fierce as he could muster, he charged at the enemy, lifting himself off the ground with his wings.

He'd expected a glaive to slice right through him as soon as he'd left the ground, but escaping their clutches must've astounded them. Even through the wetness flowing from his eyes and the agony threatening to knock him out, he was able to drive his horns into his opponent's neck. They were dead before he threw them off.

Roland didn't care for how innocent these robed figures were now. He was bloodthirsty, and he wasn't willing to let any of them leave alive. Hatred coursing through his veins, he immediately targeted the closest of the four remaining.

They tried to guard his strike, but he decided to instead grab the weapon and wrench it from their grip, swinging it as swiftly as he possibly could at them. With a gurgled cry, the figure fell to the stone floor, unmoving. He turned around to an adversary jumping towards him, glaive held high above their head in an attempt to put him down. Of course, Roland ended up smashing through the attack with his own weapon. Another merciless, albeit clumsy, strike was enough to bring that one down for good.

The remaining pair looked too scared to try striking at him; he didn't blame them. Seeing their allies brutally murdered before their eyes had to be frightening. Instead of pitying them, however, he didn't show them any mercy. He glided over and took them both out with one fell swoop of the blade he had his paws on.

He stared at the carnage he'd created for a second, the disgusting mound of bodies, the red splattered across the walls. Honestly, he didn't care. He'd stopped caring about all those lives when he was kicked in the face. The pain just wouldn't come to a standstill; he could still feel crimson fluid leaving his nostrils, coating his scales in a deeper shade of burgundy.

Roland decided not to discard the weapon he was holding, knowing he would probably find more than a singular use for it, despite how cumbersome it was. He knew he would find more if he was getting closer to Ashlyn. At least, that made sense to him. Shaking his head, he flew down the corridor, the glaive clasped in his forepaws and directed in front of him.

The further he soared through the maze of hallways, the more cheetahs he encountered. Usually, when they realised an enraged dragon charging down the halls with a lethal weapon was after them, they tried their best to defend his strikes, like any normal intelligent enemy would. Unfortunately for them, even with Roland's disadvantage when it came to combat experience, he cut right through them. He did, however, have to withstand more and more blows as he proceeded further. They were slowing him down, and every movement he was making was becoming a slog. He ignored the pain, though.

His twenty-seventh enemy went down with a gurgled cry. As much as he wanted to keep his weapon, he had to drop it then. It was too weighty within his trembling, blood-soaked paws, and had been for a while now. Still, his heartless rage carried him on, further and further...

 _"You've made a terrible decision, whelp,"_ Drevon's voice called. He didn't give a damn about the iron dragon's dialogue. _"I'm already on my way. Never underestimate your foes."_

The next bend lifted his spirits. A stairwell leading downwards was positioned just at the end. He hoped the ice dragoness was down there. They needed to escape.

Hopping down the steps three at time, he descended into the darkness below, not thinking about how rash the action was. It didn't bring him any harm, though. He was quite lucky for that.

A bluish light illuminated the room he entered; he wondered for a second if it was that kofalt substance. Barrels and boxes full of a slimy, cyan fluid were set around the room in a manner lacking any kind of organisation, and a strange machine was built in right in the centre, its wires stretching across the walls like a vast river network. The machinery was tall and quite impressive, a large cylinder full of the liquid was built inside of it, and blue rocks were set inside of it. They seemed to glow, the reason for that odd luminescence the room was bathed in.

Being the centrepiece of the area, he paced up and examined it more thoroughly. A buzz could be heard from its innards as he moved closer, barely audible over the irritating ring the alarm produced. He looked up and noticed it stretched up to the roof, quite high, much unlike the corridors of the complex. Two shapes, like cones, joined together to create a machine that looked somewhat like an hourglass. And right in the centre, where the sand would've fallen through had it been an hourglass, he saw an unconscious dragoness strapped to the heavy machinery.

He felt as if his own heart was ripped straight from his chest, already feeling his eyes moisten once more. By the Ancestors, what had they done to her?

"A-Ashlyn?!" he yelled. "Ashlyn! Are you..."

A slight groan escaped her mouth, and he breathed a sigh of relief. She wasn't dead. Not yet.

His brain already having registered what had happened, he leaped into the air once more and began trying to rip apart the bonds tied around Ashlyn with his teeth. The broken area of his jaws flared again, but he didn't care. Not one bit. She needed his help and he would do anything to assist her.

One cord snapped, followed by another, until she was finally free of the bonds. He caught her in his paws before she could fall to the ground, but his forelegs almost gave way under his weakness. They both fell and collided with the flooring; he took the brunt of the damage, although that didn't matter to him. He'd found her. _Finally_.

Carefully sliding out from underneath her, he gazed at her injured form. All her previous wounds from the battle with the blundertail were untreated. Worse still, her scales had been blackened by something. It looked like soot, but just the way she smelt of burnt flesh... Had she been electrocuted?

"Ashlyn... W-Wake up. Come on..." He looked at her hopefully when her eyelids slowly opened, revealing a pair of bloodshot eyes. She looked like she'd been crying recently.

"R-Roland?" Ashlyn muttered, her voice faint, almost indistinct. She seemed so, so weak. The weakest he'd ever seen her. Normally, she would try to hide her feelings, but now... That obviously didn't matter anymore. "Drevon... I..."

"Shh." He put a claw to her lips, the wetness once again threatening to pour forth from his eyes. "Y-You've been through a lot."

"You... You came back." A single droplet was already coursing down her face. "I-I thought you... you would just leave me here."

"Why would you think that?" he asked, quite surprised. How could she not expect her only friend to come back for her?

"I... I don't-" She spluttered again. "I guess I was... losing hope. Th-They did... horrible things. Worse than Aurus..."

"I-I'm just glad you're okay. Just... I..." Roland couldn't help the sob that slipped out of his muzzle. He was only just now remembering the things he'd done soaring down the corridor. He wasn't proud of any of it, and he couldn't believe he'd acted in such a brutal manner... None of that was supposed to happen. It could've all been avoided if he didn't get so mad. He felt like he hadn't been conscious when any of it happened.

"H-Hey, Roland..." She sounded like she was attempting to be comforting. Usually, it was him doing the comforting, and he probably should've been the one at that moment, but it didn't matter anymore. "Don't worry so much about me... I-I'm totally fine."

Roland knew that was a falsehood. There was no point in pressing that subject, though. "I-I killed so many... I'm a monster. I... I-"

He felt Ashlyn's wings wrap around his torso; he was immediately grateful. Instead of continuing to criticise himself, however, he melted into her embrace, finally letting his emotions run free. Never had he shown such a level of weakness with anybody. But with Ashlyn, he was okay with that. There was nothing to worry about when he was with her.

"I-It's okay, Roland. I know how you feel..." Again, she sounded so consoling, yet rather awkward. Roland knew she definitely wasn't the best at this. She'd never had much experience, and he could feel her own tears dripping onto his muzzle... He was giving her a difficult time, wasn't he?

He lifted his head from her chest and gazed into her eyes, wiping the tears from his own. "I-I'm sorry. I, um... We should probably get going. Drevon's forces will be here soon. W-Will I have to carry you?"

"Roland, you look terrible," she responded, glancing over his own combat damage. "Are you sure you can carry me?"

"When don't I look terrible?" At that, a slight giggle escaped his muzzle. Ashlyn did partake in the laughter too, but hers came out as more of a raspy cough.

"W-Well... You're not the best looking guy I've ever seen, but you're, um... not bad, I guess..."

"Wait, is that a compli-"

"Ugh, I take it back."

All the while, they exchanged laughs and grins, like good friends do. After the traumatic things he'd been through, it felt great to toss them to the side for just a moment with hilarity.

He would never forget the things he'd done, though. They would be with him until the end of his days.

"W-We should probably get a move on," Ashlyn suggested. He quickly nodded in response. "C-Can you... you help me up, Roly?"

He smiled once more, rubbing his teary eyes. "Yeah... Just let me get a wing around you."

Despite the numerous wounds covering his body, thankfully none of them were fatal. Every blow had glanced off his scales, or had been but a minor scratch cutting his chest. Still, he bled, and the pain was nothing like he'd ever felt. He wondered if his face had caved in after those kicks. Then he realised that was dumb. If that was the case, his fate would've been sealed long ago.

Ashlyn raised herself off the ground inch by inch, just enough so he could get the leathery webbing of his wing across her back and underneath her stomach. Pulling her in close to himself, she slowly but surely got to her feet. Her paws quavered, struggling to take her weight, but he wasn't going to let her fall. She was going with him whether her paws could deal with it or not.

"I think I might have some magic left in me," she muttered. "Th-That bastard took my ring, though. I'm not sure if I'll be able to... to take down one of those things."

He immediately shook his head. "N-No! Don't!"

In spite of how physically incapable she was at that moment, she still had the ability to angle her head and frown at him. "What? Why not?"

"They're cheetahs... Behind the masks, they're cheetahs. It's not their fault. Drevon's using them."

"Ch-Cheetahs?" Her eyes widened in response. "You mean, from Feline Falls? I thought they... they all moved over there. I thought..." She hung her head low. "It doesn't matter now. L-Let's focus on getting out of here."

Only one strenuous step toward the staircase later and Roland heard heavy steel boots clanging against the floor. They were hurrying towards his location. There was no other way out. But rather than thinking he was basically screwed, he was sure he could push through the crowds again. He'd done it before and would do it again.

"Roland..." Ashlyn's voice came forth. He inclined his head to show he was attentive. "The lever on the machine. P-Pull it all the way down, grab me with your legs, and fly as fast as you can."

"Why?" he asked, bewildered by her request. "And what do you mean-"

"Just do it!" she shouted, followed by more spluttering. "Just... It's the only way. Whatever you do, do not look back. I only need to get an ice spike in there..."

Turning around, he hurried over to the huge gizmo, hauling Ashlyn with him. He looked at the lever's gleaming surface for a moment before yanking it downwards. A blue spark was lit, and it travelled up the wiring coiled around the machine. The machine whirred, and immediately, electricity shot spasmodically out of its thin centre, covering the entire construct in sporadic, blue lightning. When Ashlyn was strapped to that, it had to have been agonising...

"Okay, what now?" he inquired. The footfalls, while now quieter under the stark sound of electricity, was crawling ever closer.

"Fly up and grab me," she ordered. He hopped into the air, mindfully lowered himself onto Ashlyn's spined back, and wrapped his forepaws around her. For a dragon, she wasn't too heavy, but his own physique wasn't great enough to carry her with ease. Still, he could manage. She was depending on him.

"And now you do... what?" He could only frown at her odd idea. Perhaps the electricity had muddled her mind.

"This machine... says goodbye." She struggled to do it, but a small spike of solid ice slipped from her mouth. He watched as another bright spark journeyed its way up the wires. And then, it finally hit him.

 _"It's not a_ gold _mine. But we are sitting on a kofalt mine. A huge one at that. It's quite the game changer when it comes to technology. It's durable, malleable, doesn't wear, and it conducts crystal power. It's also explosive!"_

 _Explosive..._

"Fly, Roland..."

He didn't need to ask any more questions; he turned and bolted through the air, Ashlyn in tow. There was one last loud zap before everything stopped.

He regretted looking back.

Flames swirled like a tornado around the machine before it erupted. The passage exploded into horrifying, orange light, everything around him lurching and crumbling with it. But it didn't stop there. The explosions went on and on, a never ending cycle. After all, they were sitting on a kofalt mine.

He shivered, turning his head forward, where he saw the robed figures pursuing him quickly turn around at the sight of the maze being turned to dust. They, unfortunately, didn't make it far before they were consumed by the inferno's fiery wrath. There wasn't a scream. They were dead in milliseconds.

Detonation after detonation filled his mind like the beat of an explosive drum. The corners whizzed past him, turning to rubble just as he made it through. He was unsure of how swiftly he was willing his battered body to go, but he wasn't going to let up. However, the further he went, the stronger the inferno became, the faster the ruined stone thronged the space behind him, and the closer he got to the verge of being swallowed whole by the explosion's embrace.

Loose rock bashed his back, the explosions deafening him, and cheetahs once chasing him were consumed by the fire's gaping maw, but he tried his best to disregard it. Ashlyn's fate was literally within his own paws. If she was going to survive, he needed to move past that.

It was time to fulfil the promise he'd made to himself. For her, he put on a sudden burst of speed, straining his spine and wingspan, forcing himself through the torturous conditions he was met with. And for once, hope seemed to glimmer through the cracks of despair; the explosions grew massive, yet he was starting to outfly them.

His recent respite didn't last long, however. The hallway ahead of him had begun to collapse, rocky lumps burying themselves into the floor. He flew faster, but there seemed to be no end in sight. While he could've risked trying to dart through the small openings it was creating for him, he decided against it. They just didn't last long enough, and he'd be hit by falling stone if he tried. There was already a clear exit, anyway.

One larger amalgamation of grey brick fell from the roof and glanced off his side, forcing him downwards slightly. He felt Ashlyn's paws slide across the flooring, but he lifted himself before they tumbled.

"Is it far now, Roland?" In spite of the resounding booms behind him, her voice still reached him.

"N...Not... far." At least, he hoped it wasn't. He was exhausted, having completely exerted all of his energy by now. Only the adrenaline being consistently pumped throughout his body was able to sustain him. That, and the fact both his and Ashlyn's lives were almost certainly going to end if he slowed down at all. Despite the feeling in his wings – the feeling they were about to snap off – he needed to keep moving.

Fortunately, the end of their hazardous misadventure seemed to be approaching them. He could see the elevator. But a thought occurred to him then.

How was he supposed to get in if the explosions were chasing him. That was a dead end.

He didn't have even a moment to ponder this question. A huge bang rose above every other explosion and a sudden warmth reached his back. Before he could even wonder about what happened, he careened across the corridor, faster than his wings would ever take him. He slammed into the stone floor, lost his grip on Ashlyn, and started to tumble. He didn't have the ability to stop himself.

It didn't take long before he smacked something hard, however. And still, it didn't knock him out. He felt like he had a concussion, though.

Leaping to his feet, dazed, he tried to look around. The world was spinning, but he realised he was in the elevator. The corridor he'd just moved through was now blocked off by stone rubble. If there wasn't any power after those explosions, he was stuck inside. There were more worrisome thoughts, however.

First, he wondered why the explosions had stopped so suddenly. He couldn't hear their constant booming anymore, and he wasn't dead yet.

But what he was truly terrified by was the fact that he'd dropped Ashlyn. He felt like a dagger had just been plunged into his heart. He'd actually let her go...

"N-Nice landing, Roly..."

Well, of course she'd survived. And she just had to crack a joke after that. She was really taking after him. Gosh, he couldn't stop a grin from curling his muzzle.

"Y-Yep... Totally amazing." With that, he collapsed onto the ground, relaxed, and breathed in the _refreshing_ scent of smoke. He started coughing a moment later.

"Are you... feeling okay, Roland?" she wheezed. The better question to him was if she was feeling alright, but that didn't stop him from answering.

"I'm fine, just got... a few more kilometres to go now." He forced another smile, but realising how much further he would have to travel, he couldn't help but feel like dozing off. And he'd probably have to do all of that with Ashlyn in his paws.

He peered over to the ice dragoness, slumped under the lever to move the machine they were inside of. She reached up and pulled it down; he wasn't surprised she knew how to work it – it operated in basically the same fashion as the electric device earlier. Surprisingly, though, the elevator jerked downward for a moment and then quickly started to ascend. Somehow, it was still receiving power. Perhaps Warren's tower held a different generator. He had no idea how any of this crystal power stuff worked.

Roland still couldn't figure out why the inferno so coincidentally stopped before it hit the elevator. Maybe there hadn't been a fuse to go off of under it. Maybe the amount of kofalt was too small. He couldn't figure it out. Those were questions Darryl could answer. Once he was out of the complex and far, far away from Tall Plains, he was going to give that deer a piece of his mind. So many inquires to respond to...

He actually had to escape this first. That was his primary objective.

The elevator he was sat in had a glass wall, much like the window in Warren's, although it seemed reinforced – certainly unbreakable. He clambered to his feet and paced over to it, gazing far below. Everything – the labyrinth of corridors, the airships, and even the island – was turning to dust and ash before his very eyes. The sheer amount devastation one simple mechanism caused was almost implausible. The only survivors seemed to be cheetahs hurriedly escaping on dreadwings. But it probably had to do with the kofalt; Warren was right when he said it was volatile.

Why he'd pulled through still didn't make much sense... And when he thought about it, he was astounded by the tower's continued ability to stand after the damage. But he was going to take it, anyway. It was good to be alive.

The elevator came to a halt, Warren's office stretching out before him. Everything was laid out the same; the furry mat, the shelves, the spirit gem pot... Oh, how he would love to use some of that right now. But Ashlyn needed it more than him. She couldn't even get to her feet without his help, let alone fly. That tantalising, red gem was sure to make the trip back easier.

But Warren's body was missing, confusing him. The cheetah's blood was still pooled on the floor, yet he was gone. Not even the mask was there... Maybe Warren had survived and walked. Or perhaps he'd walked off and been blown up.

Roland didn't have time to fret about that, though. He treaded back over to Ashlyn, who he again offered his paw to. She grabbed it without hesitation, allowing him to get her up on her feet once more.

"Not far now," he said, smiling. "I completely forgot there was a spirit gem in here. Maybe I won't have to carry you around. Give my paws a rest."

"Are you saying I'm fat?" She glared at him, but he could tell it was playful.

"I'd say something mean, but I don't want to offend you." His grin only widened. "You'd probably bash me, in spite of your injuries."

"Good. At least you're somewhat reasonable."

Some chuckling later, he draped his wing across her and wrapped it around her stomach, holding her up. They sluggishly paced towards the spirit gem, and as they did so, he tore a chunk out of the brittle substance. He handed it to Ashlyn, who proceeded to crush it beneath her trembling paws. The energy seeped into her, clearing up her major wounds, and she lifted her head slightly, seeming happy now that she'd been revitalised.

"Gosh, I needed that." She let go of him, now able to stand on her own. For a moment, she looked down.

"Is... something wrong, Ash?" He raised a brow, concerned. She smiled slightly, then leaned into him, embracing him in her own wing.

"Thanks for everything, Roland."

He couldn't stop the smile again. "You're welcome... Let's focus on getting out of here. This can be saved for when we're... out of Tall Plains. Hopefully we'll see Nelly again."

"I'd like that."

After snapping the crystal himself, restoring his own energy, he looked towards the transparent wall. One horn bash would probably do it, but he didn't exactly want a face full of jagged shards. The wall was pretty thin, however. A thick textbook from the shelf nearby would have to do it.

He walked to the bookshelf and grabbed the biggest book he could find. Strangely, the title read Flames: Burning. Why was that name so familiar... He didn't have time to worry about it now. It was about to become a tool for vandalism.

Roland glanced at the window again and aimed his papery throwing weapon. Without any hesitation, he lobbed it towards the window. The wall violently shattered, glass tinkling on the flooring; he could've sworn somebody would hear it from miles away.

And right there, was his escape route.

"Come on, Ashlyn!" he yelled in delight, running towards the new opening. "I'll race you!"

She grinned and followed him. "Wow, you never take anything seriously, do you?"

"Nope!"

He was about to leap out of the window. The cold, ash-laden air nipped at his scales, and the ocean far from his position, so attractive, filled his vision. Freedom felt great. And he was finally about to get away from Drevon.

Away from Drevon. Why did that sound so... strange?

Of course, his worst mistake was underestimating the words spoken to him.

A great force smashed into him and he rolled awkwardly across the planked floors of Warren's office once more. He hit the bookcase, wondering what had just happened. Before he had any time to make a move, though, he felt something sharp and metallic coil around his neck.

"Roland!" he heard Ashlyn scream his name. The red dragon opened his eyes to find he was staring into a pair of glowing, colourless orbs. Drevon's eyes. A feeling of deep despair settled in his stomach.

"You weren't attentive, whelp." Despite the furious tone of their voice, Drevon's muzzle widened into a wicked smirk. "Now you will pay the price."

After noticing he was being restrained by Drevon's tail, he realised what the dragon was about to do and tried to struggle his way out. He felt their tail blade brush up against his neck, ready to make an incision. One would that end his life. And without another thought, he felt it leave his neck for a moment, only to have it slice into him a moment later

Roland's entire right side exploded with pain, specifically his forepaw. He felt like he'd just been severed in two. He struck the planks under him and couldn't help screaming. Hoping to stop the pain, he clutched his paw.

Something was wrong. He... couldn't feel it. Through tear-filled eyes, distraughtly, he tried to search for his paw. He looked down at it, noticing scarlet on the floor. He reached out and wrapped his claws around it, but quickly realised the red was actually liquid. It seemed to be spilling rather rapidly from his side.

And then it finally hit him. If his paw wasn't there and he was bleeding so profusely from where it should've been, then...

His leg was gone.

Roland's blood – or whatever he had left now flowing freely from the walls of his body – ran cold. The thoughts that should've been swirling around the innards of his mind were slowing down, the feeling of agony already numbing. Any warmth still residing within him had already left him.

He felt so cold.

 _"Never underestimate me, whelp... Never underestimate me..."_

He felt that same force, Drevon, lift him off the ground again, and for a moment, thought he saw Ashlyn. She looked like she was screaming. There was this odd, light blue glow surrounding her, and her body seemed to be partially covered in frost... She looked like she was releasing magic...

An elemental fury. Just for him. He couldn't believe his eyes.

He left the claws of Drevon, barrelling through thin air. He only fell.

Not once did he feel himself hit the ground. Darkness enveloped him, plunging him deeper into death's cold grip.

He could only feel himself falling. Falling forever.


	25. Return to Sender

Return to Sender

The edge of reality, drifting between life and death, trying to make a decision. Everything had burned, the snow had melted, but the area was strangely humble. White lights, high above, cast their faint fingers across a planked, mahogany floor. A set of carved drawers, a nice wardrobe, and a bed were all items contained within the space.

In that bed lay a dragon. A dragon who wasn't sure whether to go on with life or not. A dragon that had lived because of a miracle, but also a dragon that wasn't exactly alive, either.

Comatose was a dreaded thing. It kept people asleep for weeks, sometimes months on end. It could halt the flow of life so suddenly. It would leave the dragon's only friend in tears. Even despite this, the dragon was stuck trying to decide on a specific choice.

On one side of the argument was life. The dragon had so many things to experience still. They were only fourteen, after all. The joy of freedom from a seemingly eternal nightmare, the happiness of a lover when times were dark. The world in all of its glory.

On the other lay death. The idea of climbing to the heavens, the Ancestors, so far above sounded so appealing. The dragon would forever be able to rest, knowing they would be in the care of the Ancestors. And perhaps, they could visit their parents. There were so many unthinkable, impossible things they would be capable of doing as a spirit.

But there was one factor in the equation that leaned them towards one side more than another. There was another dragon. One the dragon could call their best friend, always there to help them, even if it had only been weeks since they met. And the last thing they wanted was to leave them alone.

Sometimes, miracles do happen. And in Roland's case, they happened far too often. He wasn't complaining, though. Somebody was just smiling fortune down at him. He was happy with that...

Yet, even with the opportunity that had arisen for him, he felt rather sorrowful. He wasn't sure if he deserved it. After all, he'd ended all of those lives. All twenty-seven of them... Actually, that was false. He'd probably slain hundreds of cheetahs in the destruction he'd allowed to ensue. There were still all of those people locked up, as well. They were gone.

He knew he had to move past all that. But he felt so melancholic, so culpable, because of his actions. Why were the Ancestors so decided on shining good luck upon a dragon such as he? Why did they want such a petty swine to continue living?

Perhaps... Perhaps they were hoping he could rectify his errors. See his mistakes and turn them into good things. Things he could actually be proud of.

 _"You have much to be proud of, young one."_

Roland didn't recognise the voice that came forth. It was distant, yet it felt so close. Booming, yet gentle and kind at the same time. It came from everywhere and nowhere. Completely indescribable.

Why was he so special?

 _"Against all odds, you've survived everything Drevon has thrown at you,"_ the voice continued. _"You've made friends, despite how you may feel about them now. And you've... done your absolute best to journey the path you've taken. Yet I must ask a favour of you."_

If he was awake, he would have raised a brow... Actually, why was he aware of his current state of consciousness? That was particularly strange when he thought hard about it.

Roland couldn't find the ability to speak back to the voice, either. His mind wouldn't allow it. Or this being, whatever it was, wouldn't allow it. While the argument was disputable, the former seemed correct. They sounded too kind-hearted, and thus punishing him with the latter would've been strange. It wasn't like he could open his mouth to voice his cloudy thoughts, anyway, being asleep and all.

 _"There is an island. The journey there is... a long one; it's hundreds upon hundreds of kilometres north of Tall Plains. Some call it the Middle of Nowhere. But me? I call it... Dragon's Ruin."_

That name wasn't at all familiar with the name used, but he still inwardly shivered. He had so many questions flowing through his mind. Unfortunately, he couldn't voice them.

 _"It concerns Drevon. Maybe even the fate of the Dragon Realms, although I... seriously doubt it. There's things I must tell you that I can't tell you here, anyway. This link... is too difficult to keep up. If I let you speak up, I think you'd sever the connection."_

" _Just... get to Dragon's Ruin. We need you, Roland. Get to Dragon's Ruin_.

Those last words resounded within his mind. Roland didn't know what to do about them; he was so bewildered by the sudden request. What would he do about it? He could ignore it, yet the way the tone said it made it sound as if the fate of the world was resting upon his shoulders.

There was, however, one clear choice. He couldn't let down those who cared about him. If he'd done that, he would've broken that promise he'd made to himself so long ago.

She was obviously there for him. He needed to be there for her.

So, maybe it was about time he woke up.

Roland's first feeling was one of freezing. He felt like he'd been encased ice. Even despite the feeling of warm bedsheets and doonas wrapped snugly around him, he couldn't help feeling the impact of the wintery outdoors.

Next, came weakness, obviously because of all the blood he'd lost... Or was that just exhaustion? Actually, how long had he been unconscious? How long since being captured, and forced to oppose Ashlyn? How long since he'd slain those cheetahs, murdered Warren... All those people left locked up in the cells?

"...waking up?" a voice cut into his thoughts. It was clearly female, and definitely one he'd grown accustomed to hearing. He'd never forget Ashlyn's soft, fragile tone when she was despondent. This time, however, some form of hope seemed to spring back into her voice.

"You're not just hallucinating again, are you?" another said. While this tone was familiar, he couldn't quite recognise its owner. Again, it was feminine, but he couldn't place his claw on it.

"H-He's moving." Roland felt something land atop his chest. "He's actually moving!"

"Is that him, or are you just shaking him?"

"What? No! Look!"

Somehow, in spite of how physically inept he felt, he allowed a smile to grace his muzzle before finally opening his eyes. Oh, how it was amazing to gaze upon those bright eyes again. They were damp, crying tears of joy.

"Hey," he managed before falling into a fit of coughs. Ashlyn didn't bother moving, copping his coughing fit, but she didn't seem to mind, her eyes continuing to glisten with happiness. Despite his painful spluttering, he couldn't help himself from throwing a few laughs into the mixture.

"I can't believe it," that same voice he'd heard previously murmured. He peered to his left and found a green dragoness. It was easy enough to recognise her as Myrtle. "I thought you were dead for sure! You were so still! You were hardly breathing! By the gods, how are you even-"

"Okay, okay." He offered her a little smirk. She looked down, her own abashed smile playing on her lips. Gosh, her mood drifted between being melancholy and amazed so quickly. But what else would he expect from her after awakening from a coma? "I-I'm here now."

"I just..." Ashlyn sniffled. "Y-You were shot and you survived that, b-but I didn't expect you to live through... through..." A quiet sob escaped her mouth. She looked overjoyed to see him, yet at the same time concerned for him. He was confused as to why, yet like any good friend who'd just awoken from a coma would, he slowly pulled his sheets off and opened his wings to embrace her. Almost immediately, her head fell upon his chest.

"I'll, um... give you two some room," Myrtle muttered. He nodded slightly, watching her swiftly pace down the staircase of the room he was in. For a second, he wondered where he was, but it wasn't particularly difficult to find out. The domed window above his bedhead, starlight trickling through its transparent face, was enough indication as to where he was located. He did realise he'd just awoken from a deep state of unconscious, but how had he gotten there?

He had more pressing matters to deal with. Ashlyn was sobbing uncontrollably into his chest; he needed to lighten her mood somehow. He wrapped a wing around her.

"Hey, it's only me," he said. "I'm not that important. Don't worry about me so much."

"Only you?" She lifted her head and stared him in the eyes, the glint in her eyes quickly turning furious. "W-What the hell do you mean?"

"Well, um..." He gazed at the roof momentarily, trying to save their conversation. "I guess I'm kind of important. Um..."

"I dragged you all the way back here, and you think you're not important?" Quickly, Ashlyn lifted herself from him, rubbing at her eyes. "That's just great, Roland! If you really think you don't matter, then maybe... Ugh. Cant believe you..."

That was not the response he was expecting at all. He felt his chest tighten at her remark, his gut clenching. But he couldn't muster any rage. It really wasn't needed. Plus, she was right...

"I-I didn't mean it like that." He craned his head. "I... I wanted to make you feel better. That... I'm sorry."

She sighed, adopting a more saddened look. "Yeah. I... Sorry."

He didn't blame her for her for the words she'd spoken. Anybody in such a mood wouldn't really think about the things they'd say. That, and he'd just said something dumb as well. She looked tired too – there were rather heavy bags under eyes – so being in a crappy state of mind was understandable, anyway.

"I'm guessing Myrtle's going to go and tell the others you're up," Ashlyn said, changing the subject. "I'm hoping Alevor has a way to get you back on your feet... I don't want to have to rehabilitate you."

She ended with a smile to tell him she was joking. But he had no clue what she meant by rehabilitate. "What do you mean, Ash? Apart from feeling tired, I'm fine."

"Well, you did just wake up from a coma." Ashlyn shrugged. "That, and you're... kind of missing a leg there, Roly." She chuckled dryly. His brow only continued to lower.

"What?" He peered down at himself a moment later. His left foreleg was fine. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

His breath was caught in his throat when he saw nothing but a stub replacing the area his right leg was supposed to be in. He stared at it for the longest time, and before he knew it, he was hyperventilating.

"Roland?" Ashlyn's voice hardly reached him. "R-Roland?"

A stream of muddled, anxious thoughts coursed through his mind. What had happened to him? What was happening to him? He felt the world spinning again, not unlike Drevon's vision, and he felt nothing but vomit rise in his throat. He couldn't stop shivering. It was so cold.

His heart wanted to rip and tear out of his insides. Again, Ashlyn's voice came, much more panicked this time, but he couldn't snap out of it.

"Rol... what... Rolan-"

The world as murky as swamp water, he tried to grab onto something, anything, to steady himself. Really, it only reminded him of the limb he'd lost. He eventually did reach something, however. A sharp feeling grasped his sides; he only panicked more.

His trembling grew fiercer, as did his breathing. The feeling of death was quickly approaching, ready to take him back to the land of eternal slumber. Ready to end his short, miserable existence.

"Roland..."

He was dying again.

"Roland."

He was ready to die again.

"Roland!"

The shivering stopped. His breathing steadied, and his eyes were trained on Ashlyn. He looked at the stub on his right, anxiously licked his mouth, and then quickly turned back to her.

"W-What," she stammered nervously, "was... was that?"

Roland couldn't find the words to describe it. It was as if he'd been thrown into a turbine, spun until he felt heavily ill. He buried his face in his paws, deeply shaken.

"A panic attack, probably," a masculine tone suggested. Roland glanced up to find an Atlawa in black, greasy overalls – when he saw a llama in such strange clothing, he was immediately able to tell that Alevor was the owner of the voice. He watched the Atlawa turn his gaze to him. For whatever reason, he seemed troubled by something. The red dragon decided to ignore it for now, thinking it was just his brain playing up. "I have no idea how it feels to lose a limb, dragon, but I didn't expect that. You were at it for thirty minutes."

"Th-Thirty... What?" he exclaimed, astonished. It hadn't felt that long at all.

"Yeah... Thirty," Myrtle said, clearly worried. "I... I haven't seen anything like that in my life, and I definitely wouldn't have expected it from you. Are you feeling okay, Roland?"

Roland nodded, swallowing the saliva in his mouth. He realised it was bile a moment later, and almost gagged because of it. "Y-Yeah. What... What happened to me? When did I lose a leg?"

"You mean, you don't remember?" Ashlyn spoke up. He shook his head in response. "Drevon cut it off, Roland."

The red dragon looked around him as if to confirm her answer. Myrtle shrugged, obviously because she hadn't been there at the time, and Alevor visibly shrank, very unlike the usually proud Atlawa. He cocked his head and frowned. For the life of him, why couldn't he remember that happening? Everything prior was still up there – he went through the events backwards; rescuing Ashlyn, slaying so many innocents, the fight in the arena. Why couldn't he...

The fight in the arena struck a nerve within him. Other than doing battle with a blundertail, things had been uttered there. He remembered being told Nara was his enemy, and thinking of the others like that as well. And right there, standing in front of his bed, was Alevor. Quickly, his nerve-wracked expression turned to one of rage, and he forgot about his missing paw.

"What do you know about Drevon, Alevor?" he asked through gritted teeth. "Actually, what do you do for him? I heard some things back at that... shrine."

"Roland, stop-" Ashlyn said, only to be interrupted.

"No, he's right." Alevor's eyes raked the floorboards. "He deserves the truth too."

Ashlyn looked at Roland for a moment, only for her eyes to shift upward. He only passed her a sideways glance, but he still felt like she knew something he didn't. Why was she so eager to defend him? Perhaps it was just because he'd allowed them both entrance into his home, despite being the enemy.

"Drevon, as I'm sure you already know," he started, "needed plans for weapons, machinery, and everything in between that. They called me the next best thing to Waylin, and gave me a huge abundance of kofalt to work with in exchange for designing their equipment. It would've all been worth it if they didn't end up stabbing me in the back while you were gone."

"Why would they do that?" Roland found himself immediately asking, intrigued by the predicament Alevor was currently being faced by. "I thought they needed you?"

Alevor notably swallowed, his tone weakening slightly. "That they did. I worked with them for years, before the beginning of Drevon's uprising. But I'm guessing they just didn't need me anymore. In fact, those damned cheetahs ventured over here the other day and stole every last piece of kofalt from me. I... wasn't able to do anything about it. I have been able to salvage a few things, but not enough for any more projects. The smithy's done for."

Roland blinked rapidly, trying to take all the information in. It didn't seem like Alevor was on a side now – if his explanation was truthful, of course – but he had worked under Drevon before. He had not a clue of what the Atlawa was supposed to be now. If Drevon's cloaked forces had raided his house, then maybe it was best if he examined the area himself.

But how was he supposed to move? He was weak, stiff, and missing a limb. Maybe he would never move again; he'd be locked up in a room for the rest of his life, unable to do a single thing himself. Who would tend to him? Certainly not Ashlyn; he didn't want her to give up everything – her life, her future, her happiness – just to assist him.

"Well, that's the truth." Alevor scratched the back of his woolly neck. "If you don't believe me, you can go and check downstairs. Not sure how you'll get on your feet, though. I guess you'll have to find some kind of balance."

Maybe he wouldn't be cooped up alone, after all. If he was counting correctly, he still had a total of three paws. Surely he could stroll around on that. How difficult could it be?

"Not sure if you should get out of bed yet, though." Alevor put a hand to his hip. "You should take it easy for awhile. It'll do your body some good... I've got things to do."

With that, Alevor promptly left the room, hunched over, his hands buried within his pockets. The ruining of everything, his entire life's work, was evidently getting to him. He wanted to console the llama, help him clean up, but that wasn't possible right now. The undamaged items leftover had to have been the ones inside of his temporary room... How did Alevor get a bed up the staircase?

"We'll leave you alone, I think." Ashlyn grabbed his blankets and tucked him snuggly into bed once more; a smirk played at his lips. She giggled softly in return. "Get some rest, Roland. You need it."

"Yeah. Okay." He rolled onto his side, accidentally tearing the bedsheets on his spines slightly as he did so. "Oops... Who thought bedsheets were good for dragons, anyway?"

Surprisingly, Myrtle had an answer to that. "Well, us dragons are generally deep sleepers; we don't roll around much in bed. Also, in cities, we usually have our nails and blades and stuff filed until their blunt... So, we don't tend to put holes in the bed."

Ashlyn lifted a brow. "...How do you know all that?"

"I haven't been living in the jungle all my life," she responded, grinning slightly. "I've only been here for three years, and even then, I still had time to learn how to be safe in a city... You don't look like you've ever filed that tail blade, Ashlyn."

"Well, my family was... unconventional."

"You've told me."

Roland smiled at the pair. Over the course of his slumbering, they must've become somewhat friends after that incredibly awkward apology. In fact, they were sharing a giggle right then. He just wished everything could always be this happy.

If only that were actually plausible...

"Well, yeah." Ashlyn sighed contentedly. "I'll let you get some rest now. You probably need it."

"See you later, Roland!" Myrtle said with a grin before almost skipping her way down the stairwell. He heard her hum a soft tune; he winced a little at the noise.

"I'll explain everything later," Ashlyn stated. He nodded in response. "You look tired... and I'm kind tired too. So, I'm off to bed. See you soon, Roly."

Roland watched Ashlyn tread down the steps, and noticed how fatigued she really was. Her nails clicked lazily along the floorboards, her posture low and slumped. Her appearance made her look like she was living in the past; those times she hadn't been capable of slumbering, hurting herself because of an event she had no control over. That time she'd blamed herself for everything, even when Aurus was the one truly at fault... So, what was it now?

Had something so bad happened to her while he was stuck in oblivion that the cycle started again? He really hoped not. He wasn't sure if he could deal with another...

Roland stopped himself there. It couldn't be that. Surely, it wouldn't! Yeah, she'd just... been a little restless lately. That had to be it.

He found his paw moving towards his mouth of it's own accord, fear rising within him. While he wasn't one for nibbling at his claws, he couldn't stop it from occurring... It couldn't be that at all. He just needed to breathe. Breathe and try to find something else to think about.

He wondered what was on for dinner that night.

"Seriously, Roland," he muttered to himself, relaxing on his bed, "she's fine. Don't worry about her."

He was just in great need of sleep, like Ashlyn had told him. He was simply panicky after the revelation of his paw being so brutally disarticulated, and he definitely wasn't one for panic attacks. Working himself up over what was probably one sleepless night wasn't going to benefit him whatsoever. So, instead of agonising further over her most likely fine welfare, he clenched a fist, breathing a sigh, and relaxed in his bed...

He really wanted a meal.

Unfortunately, it was too late for that, and it was certainly for the better if he got his mind out of the gutter and thought of more sensible things... He wondered about his conversation with that voice, so intriguing. Where was this Middle of Nowhere, and who was he speaking to?

The more questions he brought up, the worse a newfound headache became. He decided trying to doze off again was the finest alternative to thinking, if only to stop the pains jolting through his cranium.

Roland rested his cheek on the side of his pillow, making sure to curl up in the toasty warmth of his fluffy blankets. Hopefully the land of dreams would help ease his mind...

* * *

A plane of absolute darkness. There was nothing. Nothing, except one lowly dragon.

These dreams were special. It felt so weird to receive them all. He was aware he was having them, unlike a normal person, and that unnerved him.

Again, that question swirled around the insides of his skull, a question he couldn't possibly the answer to.

Why was he so special?

"Why do you think you're special, Roland?" a voice asked. The tone was familiar. He recognised it from his prior dreams, and from Alevor's smithy. The voice of a yellowy dragoness. The voice of Nara, and the voice of a being who had betrayed his trust, lied to his face to appease another enemy.

Nara materialised in front of him, particles spinning violently into an image of her. He wanted desperately to strike out at her, but the question asked had put a stop to any notion pertaining to her status as an enemy.

"I don't know," he muttered. "I really don't... I just want to go home."

All of a sudden, Roland was capable of speech within his unconsciousness again. He was bewildered, and he definitely needed answers.

Why was everything so stupidly confusing?

"That isn't really an option, Roland." Nara stepped forward; he found himself taking a singular step back. "You've been asked by _him_. I know not of his name, but of who he is. Somebody might've mentioned _him_ back at that _shrine_. I wasn't there, so I have no idea."

He wanted to answer, but a wave of emotions quickly replaced any dialogue he may of had. Anger, betrayal, fear... "Why did you lie to me, Nara?"

At this, her gaze met the shadows as black as night below her. "That was my fault. I led you into a trap without knowing about it. I never should've listened to that voice in my head..."

"But you knew about Drevon, didn't you?" he inquired, his tone changing to one of intrigue, yet he was still infuriated. Nara mouthed a few words, but looked back up at him a moment later.

"I only wrote what that voice had told me." She took one more step towards him. This time, he found himself too immersed in her answers to shift elsewhere. "It was overpowering... Strong magic. Better illusions than mine. I'll admit mine aren't difficult to beat, though."

A smile cracked her neutral expression, but she otherwise held that same air around her; mysterious.

"They lied to me, and I do realise who it was now. Drevon was contacting me. They told me to contact you specifically in the hopes of bringing you here for what they said was important to whether I lived or died. My abilities are rare, apparently. But really, it just ended up being a coincidence you flew over here... Well, almost."

"I thought you sent out a warning..." Roland frowned, bemused. "That's what you told me."

"They told me to tell you that as to not frighten you when you found out you were a little more important than you thought. Turns out you were completely expendable, and the only dragon Drevon wanted was Ashlyn because of a certain ring she had. Both of you weren't special..."

Roland's anger was quickly being replaced by sheer confusion. So, in other words, Nara had lied to him, but she was being manipulated as well?

"So, after sending you on your way, Drevon thanked me for the assistance, and I never heard from them again... Until his henchman came along to raid the blacksmith. Animals..."

"If they really wanted that ring," another question came forth, "why didn't they take it when we were back in Warfang? Why did they try to kill us?"

Nara shrugged. "Drevon's plans just seem so... so flawed. It's like they don't know what they're doing. One moment they want to burn down a city with you inside it, but have you saved by a deer, anyway. The next they want to take a ring from you two. I don't know if they even know what they're doing. They might just be a psychopath."

He itched at the bottom of his jaw, trying to figure out what this all meant. Nara wasn't really an enemy, having been lied to, but the others... Were they on Drevon's side?

"I don't know, Roland." She glanced to her left, staring into the endless abyss surrounding them; he'd thus figured out she could read his thoughts inside this dream. She could also speak, just another benefit to her powers. "I haven't had much explained to me. I only showed up when Drevon told me to."

"But," she continued, lowering her tone, "this is all a coincidence. You've taken the correct (or, well, the wrong) steps to make it here. My dreams didn't do much, for I couldn't get the magic across properly. Yet you still came here. I imagine the others did their job correctly, but I'm pretty sure I was supposed to play the key role in all of this."

The entire thing was a coincidence. From the very beginning, he'd tried to thieve the orb because of Seth. He'd been banished so hastily by that group of robed figures (he'd only just realised he had been sent packing because of them), ventured to Warfang with Ashlyn, gazed upon the city blazing... All of Drevon's plans had been thought of in a pinch, yet it had all worked out for them.

The scenario truly was unbelievable.

"I'll let you rest now," Nara stated. He peered towards her once more. "I think I've said all I needed to... Hopefully you'll be back on your feet in a few days."

No other thoughts escaped his parted maw, no other questions, no nothing. He needed time to think about this.

This run of bad luck really was starting to get on his nerves. If he'd just stayed in Avalar...

Well, a task lay ahead of him, anyhow. He felt compelled to find this Middle of Nowhere. Dragon's Ruin. The name just stuck out.

So, as dumb as the idea seemed now, he didn't want the world being hurt more so by Drevon. If this was all a scheme to lure him somewhere again, then he'd bring down Drevon, anyway. Even if the odds seemed absolutely impossible – they were definitely stacked up against him – his life meant hardly anything. He was a wreck; he was missing a limb, for crying out loud. What else did he have to lose, other than Ashlyn, who he was sure would go with him to confront whoever this voice was?

He kind of wanted to go for himself, anyway. He was just too curious.

So, he'd made up his mind. When he could finally get back on his feet, it would be time to head out once more.

Boy, the fun he was going to have...


	26. Onward

Onward

 _Weeks_. Time really had crawled that far.

Not once had Roland been able to walk on his three legs, unless he was with Ashlyn. She'd taken the liberty of helping him around whenever he desired it. Of course, he didn't ask her often. He didn't want to seem like a pest; being his extra leg had to have been irritating her.

He'd tried his very best to get his paws moving properly again, but his efforts were never to any avail. Nine times out of ten he would fall flat on his face before taking the first step. There was the rare occasion he could find a centre of balance, yet he would always fall before he could move. Sitting down, however, wasn't too difficult; he utilised the muscles in his rear legs for that.

Even _flying_ proved to be horrendously difficult. He found his body tilting to the left whenever he tried, and then he'd have to right himself. It put a harsh strain on his back too, so he'd decided staying grounded was his best option, despite how much he loved soaring through the open air, taking in the sights. And if it wasn't his missing limb causing the problems in his wings, there was obviously something wrong with his spine. He strangely got cramps every now and then, usually when he tried walking. He'd gotten used to them by now, but he'd scared Ashlyn the first time they'd stabbed at his back. He hoped his spinal column would end up mending itself with time, anyway.

"You look deep in thought," Ashlyn said from beside him. He glanced in her direction, sighing.

"Yeah, just... thinking back on everything."

She smiled, clapping him on the back with her wing. "Hey, I'm sure you'll get used to it. It's only been a few weeks. It's just going to take some time."

Roland stared out towards the abundance of snowy trees before him; after a rather troublesome flight, he'd taken her to the odd hill randomly plopped down in the middle of the jungle. He loved the spot and the sights it offered. Showing the ice dragoness was only fair, considering what she'd been doing for him. Soon, however, he turned his wandering eyes to her. "How much time, though?"

"I'd say you should remain hopeful," she said, "but I don't know. You've made some progress, at least."

Roland exhaled, looking down upon the white canopy once more. He wanted to go down there, run around, gather some snow in his paws, maybe send it careening into Ashlyn again. That wouldn't happen. It wasn't like he could just grow another leg. Even spirit gems couldn't heal a wound so devastating.

"Come on, where's that smile been, Roland?" She smirked again, but he didn't return it. He simply couldn't. An exasperated breath escaped her maw. "Like an old grump, you are ..."

He struggled to suppress the smile threatening to curl his muzzle at that one. "Old grump? That's the best you can do?"

"Well, I was going to say old fart, but..." She chuckled slightly. "I didn't want to offend mopey you."

He shook his head, dug his paw into the icy vapour enveloping their hill, and made sure he hit her dead in the jaw with the clump he'd collected. A startled gasp sounded from beside him, and he quickly found himself with a face full of snow as well. "Gosh. Should've leaned left."

Ashlyn lifted herself from the floor, smiling all the while. "Meh. Anyway, we should probably get a move on. It feels like it's been hours."

He inclined his head, although he wasn't looking forward to the wobbly flight home. "Yeah, maybe. Alevor still wants help with a few thing before he leaves."

"I wonder where he's going?" she said. "Maybe he'll set up shop in Avalar somewhere. It's not like he can just go and re-join the tribe."

Roland nodded once more. There had been heavy discussion involving what was going to happen later – to Alevor and everyone else. The llama had nothing left; the smithy was trashed – every item had been reduced to nothing but broken scrap in the raid.

"With his skill, I'm sure he could make a profit," Ashlyn continued. "Really, though, we should be worrying about ourselves. How are we getting over the Burned Lands?"

He shrugged, not having a clue. "No idea. I'm sure there's a way over, but... Yeah, it just seems so impossible. Not like we have anywhere else to go now, though."

Ashlyn grinned. "Meh. We can think about it when we get there. Let's get going, Roly."

He still loved that nickname. Every time he heard it, happiness drowned out any other feeling he might've had, and he didn't know why. It was so weird; he couldn't place a talon on his own feelings... somehow.

For now, however, he had to make his way back. He leaped into the air, following Ashlyn, and almost immediately fell flat on his face.

Oh, the _fun_ he was going to have.

* * *

Another night. Staring into the sky, gazing upon lights glistening like little fireflies far above, dazzled by their beauty. He wished that was all he had to think about, but it clearly wasn't the case.

Everything was done on Alevor's part; he was ready to get going. Ready to move out and explore the vast world in which he lived. But Roland was nothing of the sort. He was preoccupied, in deep thought.

His journey was going to be an agonising one.

Ashlyn still desired to travel with him, of course, and he was particularly appreciative for that. Walking that dark, lonely path would probably led him to insanity, most likely death. Facing Drevon on his lonesome was a death wish in itself.

But he really didn't want her going, either. He didn't want her to experience anymore pain, anymore suffering. She'd done enough for him, and he wanted to give her the break she deserved.

He knew she wouldn't listen, though. She sure was headstrong.

Chuckling a little, he returned to his gazing. Like most nights – ones where he desired peace and quiet, and no interruptions – someone would generally come up to visit him. It was usually Ashlyn, and while he liked her company more than anybody else, this was a night he truly wished to be left alone. Left to mull over his deep thoughts. But she came in with a smile plastered to her face, anyway.

"Hey, Roly."

He sighed quietly to himself. He didn't want to be impolite and kick her out. "Hey, Ashy."

Standing in the faint candlelight, her body was barely visible. But he still saw that grin recede a little. "You look like you want to be left alone, Roland. Are you... fine with me being here?"

His thoughts exactly. Gosh, he swore she could read his mind sometimes. Again, though, his mind told him to let her stay, if only to be courteous. "Yeah, you're fine." He tapped a spot on the furry mat he was perched upon next to him. "Come sit."

"Yay," she said shortly, plopping herself down next to him. "So... What's up?"

"Nothing really," he lied, not wanting to tell her about his thoughts. Roland already knew the response she'd let loose. "Just looking at the stars, as usual."

Ashlyn lifted a brow. "Well, to me, you looked like you were deep in thought. Worried about the trip?"

He exhaled silently to himself, shivering against the freezing winds of winter's night. "A little. We've got a long trip ahead of us. Longer than the one here. We'll be fine, though. I don't think anything can stop us."

She chuckled at that one. "Yeah, _definitely_."

He still loved the way they could both throw jests around, even on serious topics, like this. It made him feel so much better about everything. Every horrible thing cloaking the happiness inside of him simply faded away under the amusement and laughter they shared.

He still had no idea what he would do without Ashlyn. So, even if it did feel just a little selfish, perhaps taking her really was for the best. Perhaps their journey across the world would be a good one, despite the darkness looming ahead.

Roland was off to Dragon's Ruin, and he was taking Ashlyn with him, even if she was already willing to make like eggs and get cracking.

He was going to get there. He knew he would, and with Ashlyn by his side... Well, his thoughts from earlier. Anything was possible.

"Nothing's impossible," he whispered to himself, low enough so Ashlyn couldn't possibly hear. "Just _improbable_."

* * *

 **Welp, that's it. No, seriously. That's all, folks... Okay, okay. I should probably explain myself.**

 **So, this wasn't actually supposed to be the ending. Far from it, in fact. Once upon a time, I had huge plans for this book. Unfortunately, though, they've kind of faded away as time passed, and probably for a multitude of reasons, the most obvious being that I just loathe writing this book now. I have for awhile now, and I just haven't told anyone, because I wanted to see this until its actual finale.**

 **I desired to finish this book for those who were reading it, simply because people were actually enjoying it. Seriously, even if it doesn't seem too impressive, this is my most popular book. 5000 views and almost 50 reviews. I can't thank you guys enough. Sadly, though, I just can't continue.**

 **I've hated this book since around chapter 5, actually. Of course, I loved _writing_ it still at the time, but my motivation for doing so eventually went _poof_ at around chapter 20. XD**

 **So, I apologise for not finishing this book. I apologise for such a lazy last chapter. I apologise for leaving so many questions and plot threads unanswered, and I wholeheartedly apologise for disappointing you all. Really, though, it's been quite the trip, and I thank everyone for supporting me. Without all of you guys, this certainly wouldn't have been possible. Even just to the viewers as well, even those who couldn't make it past my terrible first chapter. Thank you, even if you won't read this. XD**

 **And, seriously. Unqualified Nuclear Physicist, or just Nuki for short... Mate, you're the best person ever. There are no doubts about it. Without you, I'm not sure if I would even still be on FanFiction. You've motivated me to keep on writing. Seriously, I love you. Not in that w... Oh, you know what I mean. XD Shameless plug. Please check him out. Not only is he a great friend, he's also a good writer. You'll enjoy what you find. Thanks for being such a wonderful editor, Nuki.**

 **So, what does this mean for me? Am I staying on FanFiction? Will I write another book? Well, yes and yes. I'm not entirely sure on what my next book will be about, but trust me when I say I'll finish it next time. Let's hope it's better than this crappy one, anyway. Maybe I'll learn to stop being so self-loathing. :P**

 **Anyway, one last hurrah for Roland and crew. I hope you enjoyed this story for what it was worth, and I hope I haven't bummed you out too much with a premature ending. Plz no flame. :P**

 **And if you really want to know where Roland's journey was going to take him, you can ask me. I'll give you the rest of the plot. Don't worry, it isn't massive walls of text. XD And if you do happen to ask, please do it via PM. I can't answer guest reviews, sorry. XD**

 **See you next time in... whatever I plan to write next.**


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